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IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 




































IN CAMP 
AT FORT BRADY 


BY 

LEWIS EDWIN THEISS 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

FRANK T. MERRILL 



W. A. WILDE COMPANY 


BOSTON 


CHICAGO 


Copyrighted 1914, 

By W. A. Wilde Company. 

All Rights Reserved 

In Camp at Fort Brady 


JAN 14 1915 


^ /fa 

©CI.A391344 


To My Wife 

MARY BARTOL THEISS 

THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 

She shared in the discovery, during a canoe voyage years 
ago, of Muncy Farm. When later the place became our 
own, she shared the pleasure of tracing back the history 
of each of the separate parcels of land, like John Bur- 
rows’ fifty acres, that are included within the limits of 
Muncy Farm. Most of the incidents in the book are 
based on the writer’s own experiences ; and in these — the 
camping, the canoeing, the hikes over the mountains — 
my wife has been a competent companion. And during 
the preparation of this book she has generously laid aside 
her own literary labors to assist in giving to others this 
simple tale concerning the region we both love so well. 



IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


CHAPTER I 

ROY MERCER MAKES A SUGGESTION 

“i^lEE! I wish we had a camp like those 
West Side boys,” said Roy Mercer, as he 
laid down a well-thumbed copy of the Greenkill 
Annual. 

“ So do I,” said Johnnie Lee. “ They have an 
awful lot of fun there.” 

Roy picked up his book and went on reading. 
It was the little volume prepared annually by 
the Junior members of the West Side Y.M.C.A. 
of New York City, and it told in detail the story 
of the summer’s fun at the West Side camp near 
Kingston. Roy finished the book and laid it 
down. Then he sat staring dreamily out of the 
window. Before him was the main street of 
Central City; a bustling little municipality in the 
central part of Pennsylvania; for he was sitting 
by the window of the boys’ branch of the Central 


10 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


City Y.M.C.A. But though he looked out on a 
street tilled with traffic, he did not see what was 
passing in the busy thoroughfare. His thoughts 
were far away — at the camp in the hills near 
Kingston. 

Roy was only fourteen years old, but he was 
very quick and active and brimful of fun. Just 
now he looked doleful as he sat staring out of 
the window. Presently he turned to the other 
boys, some of whom were reading while others 
were playing games, and repeated his sugges- 
tion. “Gee! I wish we had a camp! Why 
can’t we? ” 

“ Why can’t we? ” echoed Henry Harper, 
who had been sitting with a meditative look on 
his face ever since Roy first spoke. Henry was 
sixteen. He was large for his age, very well 
built, with dark hair and eyes. He seemed even 
older than he was, for the death of his mother 
and Henry’s increased intimacy with his father 
had made him more mature than most boys of 
his age. Henry always did the planning for the 
crowd. His suggestion of the possibility of a 
camp, therefore, instantly put an end to the 
various activities in the room, and all the boys 


A SUGGESTION 


11 


came flocking around. “ It seems to me that 
we ought to be able to get up a camp for our- 
selves, ” said Henry. 

“ How could we do it? ” said Willie Brown, a 
boy of fourteen, who always distrusted his own 
ability. “ We have n’t any place to camp and 
we have n’t any tents or things.” 

u We can make our own tents or build lean- 
tos,” said Lew Heinsling, a wiry boy of fifteen 
years, who had made several trips to the Maine 
woods with his father and was already a good 
woodsman. “ That ’s easy! But where could we 
go and how could we start a camp? ” 

44 1 don’t know,” answered Henry. 44 It would 
cost lots of money to buy the outfit and I don’t 
know how we could get it. But there must be a 
way. My father says if you want a thing bad 
enough, you can always get it. Do we want a 
camp bad enough to try to get it? ” 

44 You bet!” 44 Sure thing!” 44 Well I 
guess! ” shouted the boys. 

44 Then let ’s talk to Mr. Haskins about it,” 
said Henry, and the entire group went rushing 
upstairs to the office of the secretary in charge. 
44 1 think we could get an outfit together with- 


n IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


out very much cost,” said Mr. Haskins, after the 
boys had explained their errand. “ The main 
difficulty would be to find anyone willing to let 
you occupy his land for a month. Then, too, 
there ’s a whole lot of work about running a 
camp, and we have n’t any funds to put into this. 
If I can arrange for a camp, will you boys do 
the work? ” 

“ Sure! ” was the answer. 

“ Then come here to-morrow afternoon, and 
in the meantime I ’ll see what I can do.” 

Among the young men who frequented the 
Y.M.C.A. were a number of college students 
home for the summer vacation. Mr. Haskins 
thought that some of these young men might 
be willing to help the boys out. His plan worked 
even better than he had hoped it would. Among 
the men he had in mind were two who proved 
not only willing to help the boys, but who were 
able to do a great deal for them. One of these 
men, James Hardy, was a medical student who 
had just finished his junior year. The other, 
William Young, was a junior in the engineering 
department at Bucknell. Best of all, Mr. 
Hardy’s father owned a beautiful farm on the 


A SUGGESTION 


13 


banks of the Susquehanna River, and was willing 
to allow the boys to camp there as long as they 
wished. So it was arranged that the Central 
City Juniors should go into camp on Mr. 
Hardy’s farm for one month. “ Doctor ” 
Hardy, as the medical student was commonly 
called, was to be the leader of the camp, with 
Mr. Young as associate. 

When the boys heard this news, they made the 
rafters ring with their shouts. “ Maybe we can 
catch a fox or a chipmunk,” cried Charley Rus- 
sell with delight; for nothing made him so 
happy as to be out in the country where he could 
catch wild animals. 

“If we can’t catch them, we can shoot them,” 
said Carl Dexter, a lad of fifteen, who had 
earned quite a reputation as a marksman. 

“ You can have your old animals,” said 
Robert Martin, a fifteen-year-old boy, who 
was very fond of swimming. “ Me for the 
water.” 

“ A canoe for mine,” shouted Alec Cunning- 
ham. “ I ’ll show you fellows how to paddle.” 

“ Will there be any place to play baseball? ” 
asked Jimmy Donnelly, a bright-eyed boy of 


14 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


fifteen, who was known as the best ball player of 
his age in Central City. 

“ Can we catch bass there? ” demanded 
George Larkin. 

So it went, everybody shouting out what was 
uppermost in his mind, until Mr. Hardy called 
for order. “ Now, boys,” he said, “ the place I 
have in mind for a camp is a very fine place and 
you will like it. But before we take any steps 
to organize the camp, I want every one of you 
to promise me to obey orders, to do your camp 
duties cheerfully, and not to quarrel.” 

The new leader paused and looked around the 
circle of faces. All were bright and smiling but 
one. Lem Haskins, a boy of sixteen, wore an 
expression almost of sullenness. The boys could 
have told Mr. Hardy that this was Lem’s habit- 
ual expression and that Lem was no more pleas- 
ant than his expression. He was lazy and never 
did what he was told to do if he could avoid 
doing it. Mr. Hardy did not know this, of 
course, for most of the boys were strangers to 
him; but he noticed the expression and looked 
keenly at Lem until the latter’s eyes fell in 
embarrassment. 


A SUGGESTION 


15 


Mr. Hardy had not intended to say any more, 
but now he went on: “ When people go camping 
for a month, things always turn up that are dis- 
agreeable to some members of the camp. Each 
one of you must remember that what we are after 
is the greatest good for the greatest number. If 
something comes up that you don’t like, you 
must not make a fuss about it. You must try 
to forget it. We are going to conduct this camp 
with as little expense as possible. That means 
that we have to do the work ourselves. If there 
is any boy here who is not willing to do his share 
of the work, I don’t want him in the camp. Fi- 
nally, where a number of people act together, 
someone always has to take charge. That is 
necessary for the good of the organization. I 
am going to have charge of this camp. What- 
ever I tell you to do will be for the good of the 
whole camp. Some of you will be told to do 
things you may not want to do. I want you to 
obey orders cheerfully. I don’t want anybody 
about camp who is sullen. And now,” said Mr. 
Hardy, “ do you want to go camping on these 
terms? ” 

“ Yes! ” shouted the boys in chorus. 


16 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ Very well,” said Mr. Hardy. Then he an- 
nounced his plans to the boys. 

The main expenses, he told them, would be 
for food and car fare. The latter item would be 
slight, as Central City was less than fifty miles 
from the camp ground. The cost for food would 
be no more than the cost of maintenance at home. 
The boys would have to employ a cook, but as 
one could be secured for a dollar a day, the cost 
to each boy would be slight. Mr. Hardy said 
that he could secure a very good cook that the 
boys would like, through the assistance of farmer 
Robinson, who tilled the Hardy farm. That 
would save car fare for the cook. 

“ As for the camp outfit,” said Mr. Hardy, 
“ there are two good-sized wall tents, two smaller 
tents, and two tent-flys that belong to the 
Y.M.C.A. We can use the larger fly for a 
dining tent, the smaller one for a cooking tent, 
and the smallest tent for a storehouse. The 
three other tents will accommodate nine boys. 
• Including the cook, Mr. Young, and myself, 
there will be fifteen in camp, so you will need 
tent room for six more boys. I think I know 
where I can borrow three small wall tents, so that 


A SUGGESTION 


17 


takes care of the canvas. Major Rogers of the 
National Guard has agreed to lend us fifteen 
cots, provided that we will be responsible for 
any damage. I shall have two collapsible stoves 
made of galvanized sheet iron, but the secretary 
says that the Association will pay for them, as 
they will be useful in future camps. 

“ The rest of the equipment,” continued Mr. 
Hardy, “ you will have to provide yourselves. 
We shall need dishes, cooking utensils, wearing 
apparel, bedding, and whatever outfit for sports 
you choose to take ; only you must not take too 
much.” 

Then Mr. Hardy gave each boy a typewritten 
list of the articles he must provide. Each was 
to bring two blankets, a paper of large safety 
pins, a sweater, four pairs of stockings, with 
thread and needle for darning them, three sets 
of underwear, three shirts, two pairs of stout 
shoes with thick soles, a bathing suit, a cap or 
hat, handkerchiefs, three towels, a scrubbing 
brush, a washcloth, a toothbrush with tooth pow- 
der and soap, a brush and a comb, two square 
little bags that buttoned up — one to put miscel- 
laneous articles in and one to use as a pillow after 


18 IN CAMP AT FORT RRADY 


stuffing — a clean, bright lard pail, and a strong 
pocketknife. 

In addition each boy was required to bring a 
certain number of dishes and cooking utensils. 
All these articles were to be brought to the 
Y.M.C.A., where they could be sorted and 
packed in boxes for transportation. Steamer 
trunks were readily procured, and one trunk was 
provided for every two boys. It was planned to 
start for camp on Monday, the fifth day of July. 
In the week that intervened the cots had all to 
be examined and tied in bundles, the tents to be 
gone over, the ropes examined, poles provided 
where they were missing, and stakes made of 
stout wood. The two rowboats and the four 
canoes, owned by various members of the party, 
were to be crated and sent ahead by freight. 

Mr. Hardy, who was an experienced camper, 
paid especial attention to the preparation of the 
“ hardware box/’ as he dubbed it. For this he 
secured several good axes and hatchets, a spade, 
some rope and wire, an assortment of nails, a 
carborundum stone, and various other tools and 
supplies that he knew would be necessary. Mr. 
Hardy also got together a complete first-aid kit, 


A SUGGESTION 


19 


some books, a few games, and some balls, bats, 
and gloves. 

Mr. Hardy had made complete lists of every- 
thing required. He checked off the lists as the 
boys brought in the things. Meantime he and 
Mr. Young, because they could handle tools bet- 
ter, did most of the packing. In this work they 
found Roy Mercer a great help. He was as 
bright as a sunbeam and as active as a cat. He 
handled tools like a born carpenter and it was 
never necessary to check up his work. He did 
exactly what he was told to do and he did it 
right. Henry Harper proved very useful in the 
collection of things. He took charge of that 
work, assigning the boys to various tasks and 
looking after the details in an able manner. 
“ That boy ’s a born executive,” said Mr. Hardy. 
And so Henry became first lieutenant. Every 
boy in the group was on the jump excepting 
Lem Haskins, who would a good deal rather 
play games than carry heavy bundles. Rut 
Henry kept after him and gave him little oppor- 
tunity to shirk. 

For a week Central City was full of boys 
carrying bundles. The big storeroom at the 


20 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Y.M.C.A. looked like an auction room. But 
order gradually came out of chaos, and the jum- 
ble was reduced to regular piles of boxes, bun- 
dles, bales of tents, stacks of cots, and trunks 
and suit cases. The boats were early crated and 
hauled to the railroad station. Long before Sat- 
urday night arrived everything was in readiness. 
To the twelve impatient boys it seemed as though 
Monday would never come. 


CHAPTER II 


MAKING CAMP 

B UT it did come at last, and it brought with 
it bright, clear weather, with just breeze 
enough to temper the heat. Every one of the 
campers reached the Y.M.C.A. building long be- 
fore the hour set. The wagon that was to take 
the heavier luggage to the station appeared and 
was soon piled high. As Mr. Hardy had fore- 
seen, every one of the campers wanted to take 
more stuff than could possibly be carried. The 
trunks were bulging full and a number of suit 
cases had also been pressed into service. Even 
then there remained for the boys to carry a dozen 
bundles and all the blankets. The latter were 
tied up in rolls to be borne over the shoulders 
like horseshoes. 

At first all was confusion. Roy Mercer was 
everywhere at once, like a fox terrier; but he 
always knew what he was doing and was as use- 
ful as he was busy. Lew ILeinsling, quiet as 
usual, made sure that the camp tools were not 


n IN CAMP AT FORT * BRADY 


forgotten. Willie Brown could hardly yet be- 
lieve they were actually going camping. Every- 
body talked at once, and Charley Russell kept 
them laughing by his imitations of a chipmunk. 

But finally Henry Harper got the boys lined 
up, saw to it each had his blanket roll, and led 
the way to the station, with Mr. Hardy and Mr. 
Young coming along in the rear. “ Halt! ” said 
Henry, when they reached the station. Before 
they could break ranks Mr. Hardy stepped up. 

“ When you get on the train, boys,” he said, 
“ take your blankets and your bundles to your 
seats with you. Put your bundles in the racks 
overhead. Sit together wherever you can find 
the seats. Don’t forget your bundles when we 
reach Muncy.” 

Then the train came rushing in, and the boys, 
with a cheer, climbed aboard. Roy Mercer, as 
usual, was first. He and Johnnie Lee, who were 
great chums, got a seat together at the forward 
end of the car. The others came pushing in. 
Lem Haskins dragged along in the rear. In- 
stead of hoisting his bundle to the rack above, he 
dropped it and his blanket in a vacant seat in the 
rear of the car. 


MAKING CAMP 


23 


In half an hour the train reached the valley of 
the West Branch of the Susquehanna and 
steamed steadily northward, for an hour more, 
up the west bank. Often the cars were close be- 
side the water. The broad river, sparkling in 
the sunlight, here rushing over shallows and there 
lingering lazily in deep pools, was very different 
from the muddy little stream at Central City. 

“ Gee ! I ’ll bet it ’s full of fish,” said George 
Larkin. 

“ Bully for swimming,” cried Robert Martin. 

“ How ’d you like to shoot that? ” Alec Cun- 
ningham yelled back to Carl Dexter as the train 
was passing a pretty little rapid. 

Presently the train curved to the. right, thun- 
dered over a long bridge, beneath which the 
water was leaping in swirling rapids, then turned 
sharply upstream again, and in a moment more 
the brakeman was shouting, “ All out for 
Muncy.” 

The boys grabbed their bundles and clambered 
out. An enormous farm wagon was drawn up 
by the station, and in it were a big man in over- 
alls, with the j oiliest face imaginable, and a boy 
of fifteen, who sat beside him on the seat. They 


24 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


were farmer Robinson and his only child, Teddy. 
Both of them seemed more than glad to see Mr. 
Hardy. Mr. Robinson wrung his hand hard 
and Teddy fairly hugged him. “ You ’re more 
than welcome to Muncy Farm,” said the big far- 
mer. Then the luggage was piled in the wagon 
and the boys headed southward and started on 
their first hike — a two-mile march to camp. 

The last mile of the way lay along the bank of 
the river, which was now on their right. Pres- 
ently Mr. Hardy turned sharply to the left and 
led the boys through a field along a path that 
followed the course of a brook. The ground 
sloped upward, gently at first, and then more 
sharply. The path entered some woods. The 
grade was now steep and the boys began to 
breathe hard under their bundles. Suddenly a 
rocky ledge, thirty feet high, that extended along 
the face of the hill in each direction, barred the 
path. Mr. Hardy turned to the right along the 
foot of this ledge. Shortly a great cleft in the 
rock appeared. The boys scrambled up through 
this gateway and found themselves on a sort of 
level promontory that thrust itself out from the 
brow of the hill like a huge nose. Here was a 


MAKING CAMP 


25 


clearing of about an acre, evidently very old, for 
the stumps were almost all rotted away and the 
ground was covered with a fine sod. From below, 
the place was not visible, but one standing in the 
clearing could look out over the tree tops be- 
neath. The scene that lay before them made the 
boys shout with admiration. 

The campers were looking straight across the 
valley and facing northwest. At their feet were 
the steep hill and the sloping field up which they 
had just toiled. Parallel with the ridge on which 
they were standing ran the river, which here 
flowed from northeast to southwest. Evidently 
it was deep, for its surface was without a ripple. 
Mr. Hardy told them that at this point the 
stream was about a thousand feet wide. 

The farther bank of the river was heavily tim- 
bered, the trees apparently being left standing 
to protect the bank from floods; for beyond the 
fringe of timber, plowed fields extended in every 
direction. This rich bottom-land, now golden 
with grain and green with corn, stretched back 
from the river for several miles, sloping gradu- 
ally upward into a great mountain ridge. 

This ridge, which Mr. Hardy said was Bald 


26 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Eagle Mountain, stretched to the southwest as 
far as the eye could see; but almost abreast of 
the camp it came to an abrupt termination, turn- 
ing sharply downward, like the nose of a fish. 
From their elevated station the boys could see 
that the river, after continuing northward for a 
mile or two, described a wide curve and swung 
around on the other side of Bald Eagle Moun- 
tain. 

The semicircular valley thus formed was com- 
pletely walled in on the north by mountains, 
which rose tier upon tier, like some vast amphi- 
theater of nature. The nearest line of hills was 
cultivated, some of the fields extending quite to 
the summit. This checkerboard of hillside fields, 
some brown, some yellow, some green, with the 
great arc of the river flowing below, stood out 
in the sunlight so beautifully that for a moment 
the campers were silent in wonder. 

The view to the south, though very different, 
was equally striking. Between Bald Eagle and 
the river lay a long reach of farming land, with 
the little town of Montgomery shining in the 
sunlight some four miles downstream. The river 
itself widened as it flowed southward, until, at a 


MAKING CAMP 


27 


distance of two miles, it was perhaps three times 
as wide as it was immediately in front of the 
camp. 

The ridge on which the campers were standing 
drew rapidly closer to the water, until the fields 
disappeared and the mountain rose, a jagged, 
rocky precipice, sheer from the river’s edge. Its 
threatening face was dotted with evergreens that 
had sprung up in every crevice of rock where 
their roots could find lodgment. 

Still farther to the southward the river swung 
sharply to the left and was lost behind this tower- 
ing precipice. It appeared to have come to an 
abrupt end, and the broad reach of the stream 
below the camp seemed more like a lake than a 
flowing river. 

“ Well, boys, how do you like it? ” asked Mr. 
Hardy, who had been smiling as he watched the 
looks of wonderment. 

“ Bully! ” “ Great! ” “ Out of sight!” 

shouted the boys in chorus. Then Lew Heins- 
ling spoke up. 

“ Where are we going to get drinking water, 
Mr. Hardy? ” he asked quietly. 

“ Good for you, Lew! ” said Mr. Hardy. “ I 


28 IN CAMP AT PORT BRADY 


wondered who would be the first to ask the ques- 
tion. Come over here.” 

He led the way to the middle of the north side 
of the clearing, where, in the shade of a rock, a 
stream of water gushed forth and went gurgling 
away through the grass. “ This is a very famous 
spring,” remarked Mr. Hardy, “ and when we 
have more time, I will tell you its story. Just 
now we must get to work on the camp.” From 
his pocket he drew forth a piece of paper showing 
a sketch of a hillside camp. 

“ That ’s this very clearing,” exclaimed Lew 
Heinsling. 

“ It is,” said Mr. Hardy. “ Mr. Young 
planned the camp the day we decided to come.” 
He spread the piece of paper on a bundle and 
the boys crowded round. The plan looked very 
much like the one on the opposite page. 

“ You see,” explained Mr. Hardy, after the 
boys had examined the plan carefully, “ we are 
to put the dining tent next to the spring, and 
the cooking tent back of that, with the storehouse 
just behind the cooking tent. We have six sleep- 
ing tents, and Mr. Young has arranged these in 
two rows. Altogether we shall have three rows 


MAKING CAMP 


29 


of tents with three tents in a row. We shall 
put them in regular order in the rear half of the 
clearing, like a kind of military camp. That will 
keep the front half of the clearing open. We 
are going to be in camp such a long time that I 


Forest Ridge 



A = Dining tent 
B= Cooking tent 
C= Storehouse 
D 
E 
F 
G 
H 
I 

J=Camp fire 
K= Spring 


= Sleeping tents 


think it will be best to have board floors for our 
tents.’ * 

“ There ’s a pile of lumber up there at the edge 
of the clearing,” broke in Charley Russell, whose 
sharp eyes never missed anything. Mr. Hardy 
smiled approval. “ Yes,” he said, “ I asked Mr. 
Robinson to bring the boards here, when I wrote 
him about our coming.” 


30 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ How did he ever get them up the rocks?” 
piped up Johnnie Lee. 

“ Wait a bit and you ’ll see,” answered Mr. 
Hardy. 

Just then the rattle of wheels was heard. The 
boys turned toward the river, but no team was 
visible. A minute later the farm w^agon ap- 
peared among the trees on the upper side of the 
clearing. The farmer had followed a wood road 
that led upward through the forest at an easy 
grade. Fie drove into the clearing and the lug- 
gage was unloaded at a convenient spot. 

The next two hours w r ere busy ones. On the 
camp plan Mr. Young had noted down the sizes 
of the different tents. The smaller ones were 
eight by ten feet; two were twelve by fourteen 
feet; the dining fly was a huge sheet of canvas 
eighteen by thirty-two feet. Mr. Hardy handed 
a tape to Roy Mercer. “ I want you and John- 
nie Lee to pick out the boards for the various 
floors,” he said. “ You may make the floor of 
the dining tent eighteen by twentj^ feet.” 

Roy and Johnnie immediately ran over to the 
lumber pile and began to measure and sort out 
the boards and the planks. 


MAKING CAMP 


31 


“ Does anyone know how to fix up a spring? ” 
inquired Mr. Hardy. 

“ I do/’ said Lew Heinsling. 

“ Then take Carl Dexter with you and fix this 
spring so we can get water without difficulty. 
Mr. Young will stake out the locations for the 
tents,” continued Mr. Hardy, “ and I want you, 
Henry, to take charge of assembling each tent.” 

Henry at once set some of the boys to work 
carrying the boards for the floors and stacking 
them in the locations indicated by Mr. Young. 
He had Willie Brown open the bundle contain- 
ing the tent pegs and distribute the necessary 
number of pegs at each tent site. Robert Martin 
brought the poles. Other boys were opening the 
tents and carrying each canvas to its appointed 
place. 

Meantime Lew and Carl were fixing up the 
spring. They found that the ground sloped 
rapidly away on that side of the clearing. Here 
a number of trees had sprung up within the clear- 
ing, doubtless encouraged by the flow of water. 
In the shade of one of these trees the two boys 
found an excellent place to build a reservoir 
where the stream had eaten its way deep into 


32 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


the earth. The spot was so close to the spring 
itself that the water was still cold and spariding. 
Here they scooped out a deep basin and dammed 
up the outlet with rocks and earth. They had 
already cut a piece of chestnut sapling an inch 
and a half in diameter and two feet long. The 
bark of this they slit longitudinally along one 
side and carefully peeled it from the wood. 
They then tied the bark together in its original 
form, making a perfect tube. This was built 
into the breast of the dam about four inches be- 
low the surface of the impounded water, which 
at once began to run through the pipe in a strong, 
steady flow. Flat stones were placed beneath 
the outflow to prevent the soil from washing 
away. By placing a pail under the chestnut pipe 
it was now possible to obtain water without in 
any manner disturbing the reservoir. In fact 
it was just like drawing it from a faucet at home. 

Under Henry’s direction Jimmy Donnelly 
had opened the camp tool chest. When Mr. 
Hardy saw that he said to Jimmy, “ I ’m going 
to appoint you custodian of tools. I want you to 
count the tools now and see that they are kept in 
their places. That is a very important task.” 


MAKING CAMP 


33 


“ Right ! ” sang out Lew Heinsling, who had 
overheard the conversation. “ My father almost 
lost his life once because the camp hatchet was 
lost” 

In a very short time the boards and the planks 
for the tent floors were assembled. Hatchets 
and nails were gotten out, and under the super- 
vision of Mr. \ r oung the floors were speedily 
made, put in place, and leveled. George Larkin 
drove home the last nail. 

“ Gee! but I ’m hungry,” he said as he threw 
down his hatchet. 

“ You have a right to be,” said Mr. Hardy. 
“ It ’s dinner time.” 

A shout went up which was succeeded by a 
look of dismay. The cook had not arrived and 
the camp supplies were still nailed up. Mr. 
Hardy stood grinning for a moment. “ It ’s all 
right, boys,” he said, “ Mrs. Robinson is going to 
give us our dinner.” 

She did, and none of the boys will ever forget 
that dinner. “ Gee! I feel like a bass drum,” 
said Johnnie Lee. “ I don’t believe I ’ll be able 
to get back through that gateway in the rocks.” 
Everybody laughed. Mr. Hardy let the boys 


34 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


eat all they wanted to, and Mrs. Robinson, the 
motherliest kind of a woman, kept filling up 
their plates until they could eat no more. Dur- 
ing the meal Teddy and Lew struck up a friend- 
ship that was destined to last not only through 
the month of camp, but throughout their whole 
lives, and that was to become an important fac- 
tor in the life of each. The two were seated be- 
side each other at table, and their liking for each 
other came about naturally enough ; for Lew, as 
we already know, was skilled in woodcraft, and 
Teddy had that love for outdoor things that 
every country boy feels, and the ability to take 
care of himself under almost any conditions in 
the open. 

As soon as they were back at camp Mr. Young 
picked out a tent-raising crew. Under his direc- 
tion four pegs were driven temporarily into the 
soil to hold the four corner guy ropes of a tent. 
The poles were inserted within the tent, which 
was immediately raised and held in place on its 
platform, while the permanent stakes for the 
guy ropes were quickly driven home under the 
experienced eye of Mr. Young. Then the guy 
ropes were drawn taut and the tent gang turned 


MAKING CAMP 


35 


to the next canvas. Under this efficient plan tent 
after tent rose into the air and the entire nine 
were soon erected. 

The stakes had been driven down in very 
straight rows and the tents guyed up exactly 
plumb. The little encampment presented such 
a neat, regular appearance that when the tent 
crew drew off a little to look at their work, they 
shouted with delight. Nondescript as the outfit 
was, the tents had been erected so skillfully that 
the camp presented a much better appearance 
than does many a camp with a far better outfit. 
Mr. Young smiled with pleasure at the boys’ 
evident appreciation of his work. 

“ You see, boys,” he said, “ when a thing ’s 
worth doing at all, it ’s worth doing well.” 

The creation of the camp, this actual embodi- 
ment of their dreams, had an inspiring effect on 
the campers. They fell to with redoubled vigor. 
The place fairly hummed with activity and the 
whole hillside resounded with happy voices. 
Even Lem Haskins, who all the morning had 
seemed distraught and without interest in the 
work, caught the spirit and joined in with right 
good will. 


36 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Now came the making of the camp furniture. 
It was necessary to build a big dining table and 
two smaller side tables, with two long benches for 
the dining tent, and a couple of small tables with 
a bench for the cook’s tent. There were more 
than enough boards and planks remaining for 
this purpose, and under the direction of Mr. 
Young the desired pieces were soon created. 
They were strong and square and really looked 
very well. 

Meantime two of the boys had been unpacking 
the cots and setting them up in the various tents. 
Mr. Hardy allotted the tents. The two boys 
who shared a trunk were, of course, tent mates. 
In one of the larger tents two sets of boys were 
placed. That left the other big tent for Mr. 
Hardy, Mr. Young, and the cook. As soon as 
the cots were set up the trunks were carried 
into the tents. Each boy took his blanket roll 
into his tent and ropes were tied between the 
poles of each tent to hang things on. The vari- 
ous bundles were opened and the contents dis- 
tributed. The stores were neatly piled in the 
storehouse. The camp began to look very 
orderly. 


MAKING CAMP 


37 


Mr. Young now had Lew and Carl build a 
little wall of stone and earth on each side of the 
stream between the spring and the reservoir, to 
shut out surface water. Just below the reser- 
voir he had them dig out a channel fifteen inches 
wide and about four feet long and six inches 
deep. Flat stones were embedded in the bottom 
of this channel, and the whole was enclosed in a 
specially built box with a hinged lid. This was 
the camp “ ice box,” in which to keep perishable 
foods. 

The two galvanized-iron stoves, which were 
much like those made for campers by sporting- 
goods houses, were assembled. Of course, in 
these homemade stoves the sides were not hinged, 
and so the different parts had to be bolted to- 
gether. This was soon done and the little stove- 
pipes were run out beyond the fly used as a 
cooking tent. Meantime Mr. Hardy had given 
half a dozen of the larger boys axes and hatchets 
and had set them to work turning a nearby dead 
tree into firewood. They worked so vigorously 
that before very long a great stack of wood was 
piled up under one edge of the cooking tent. 

Mr. Young now examined the camp site care- 


38 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


fully and finally constructed a latrine on the side 
of the camp opposite the spring and part way 
down the slope, just outside the line of the clear- 
ing. Jimmy Donnelly and George Larkin dug 
the trench for him. 

“ Now, boys,” said Mr. Hardy when all this 
was done, “ I think the camp is about complete. 
Let ’s take a look at it.” 

The boys ran down to the front of the clearing, 
just above the rock wall, where they had pre- 
viously stood to view the valley; now, facing in 
the opposite direction, they admired their camp. 
And indeed they had much to admire, for under 
the skillful direction of their leaders they had 
made a very snug-looking camp, with the tents 
standing in regular rows just in front of the 
forest, and the ridge towering up behind. The 
boys set up a great shout. 

“ Hurrah for Roy Mercer,” cried one of the 
boys. “ He suggested this camp.” 

“ Hurrah for me nothin’,” answered Roy. I 
say, Hurrah for Henry. If it had n’t been for 
him we ’d never had this camp.” 

Then Henry spoke up. “ Three cheers for 
Mr. Hardy and Mr. Young,” he called. 


MAKING CAMP 


39 


“ They Te the* ones we owe the camp to.” Even 
the mountain joined in the cheer that followed, 
for it flung back an echo that started the boys 
to further cheering. 

“ We ’re not quite through yet,” said Mr. 
Hardy when the boys had tested the echo to their 
hearts’ content. “We have still a wharf to build. 
We can finish that this afternoon and the boats 
can be brought down to-morrow morning.” 
There still remained a few planks and boards. 
These the boys carried to the shore, where a short 
distance upstream they found a sandy little cove, 
protected from the current by a rocky point 
thrusting well out into the stream. The cove 
was an ideal place to keep the boats and the end 
of the point was excellent for swimming, because 
the water was deep there. On the point farmer 
Robinson had placed two water-tight barrels 
that had once contained oil. Under the direc- 
tion of Mr. Young long planks were fastened to 
these, cross-boards laid, and the whole thrust out 
into the stream with the ends of the planks 
fastened to the shore. The float was then 
moored by stout ropes running both up and down 
stream and the wharf was done. The camp was 
complete. 


CHAPTER III 


THE CAMP FIRE 

A LREADY the sun was dropping behind 
Bald Eagle Mountain in a great ball of fire 
that colored the haze of evening. A faint crim- 
son hue suffused all the valley, while the moun- 
tain itself stood out gray-blue in the background. 
The long twilight of summer was just beginning. 

The campers gathered together their tools and 
started up the hill. A thin column of smoke was 
faintly discernible against the green background 
of the forest. In astonishment the boys looked 
at one another, for though not all of them had 
been needed in the construction of the wharf, 
every member of the party had come down to the 
water’s edge. The smoke quickened their pace 
and very shortly the foremost were scrambling 
through the rocky gateway up to the level of the 
plateau, which was perhaps two thousand feet 
from the river bank. 

They saw that the smoke issued from the cook- 


THE CAMP FIRE 


41 


ing tent. On a box in front of the camp, where 
he had evidently been watching the operations at 
the riverside, sat a man now intently regarding 
the beautiful sunset. His right leg was crossed 
over his left knee. But instead of a foot there 
projected from his right trousers leg a large 
round peg. Evidently his leg had been cut off 
somewhere between the knee and the ankle. As 
the boys drew closer they saw that his nose had 
been broken, for it was badly twisted. A great 
scar ran down the left side of his face. He wore 
no hat and his bushy hair stood up in great black 
ringlets. His eyes were dark and piercing. He 
had a big bristling mustache. Altogether he was 
so fierce looking that the boys hesitated to ap- 
proach him. Elis first words reassured them, 
however. 

“ Hello, boys,” he drawled with the friendliest 
inflection, and in a voice so full and deep that 
he could have been heard a mile away. 

“ That ’s the cook,” said Mr. Hardy to Mr. 
Young as the two, bringing up the rear of the 
procession, had just reached the edge of the 
woods. He hurried up to the camp ground and 
over to the newcomer, who rose to greet him. 


42 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ Mighty glad to see you, Al,” said Mr. 
Hardy as he shook the stranger’s hand warmly. 
Then turning to the rest of the campers, he 
said: “ Boys, I want to introduce our cook, Mr. 
Jordan.” 

“ Just call me Al,” replied the cook in his 
friendly tones. Henry Harper stepped forward 
and shook hands with him. The others followed 
his example, and though the big cook had little 
to say to them, he won the heart of every boy in 
the group. His face lighted up with a smile that 
completely transformed his appearance. The 
boys forgot the crooked nose, the livid scar, and 
the piratical expression; for when he smiled, Al 
Jordan’s face was wonderfully expressive of his 
big heart. 

“ I knowed you ’d be hungry,” he said, turn- 
ing to Mr. Hardy, “ so you see I got things 
under way.” He waved his hand toward the 
smoking fires, and the boys now noticed that a 
number of boxes had been brought out of the 
storehouse and opened, and that the dining table 
was already set. Two big pots were boiling on 
the stove. 

By the time supper was over twilight was 


THE CAMP FIRE 


43 


rapidly deepening into darkness. In the open 
space in front of the tents the boys had made a 
great fireplace ringed in by stones. Wood for 
the camp fire, cut in larger pieces than the cook’s 
wood, had also been prepared by the axe brigade. 
There had been no time, however, to pile the 
wood ready for lighting. Before this was fetched 
Mr. Hardy called the campers together. 

“ There are still a few poisonous snakes left 
in this neighborhood,” he said. “ Rattlesnakes 
have been exterminated, but copperheads are still 
seen occasionally. At this time of the year they 
are often abroad at night. We shall have to be 
careful where we tread after dark, therefore, and 
I make it a rule of this camp that no one shall 
go about at night without a light. Now bring 
your lard pails.” 

A minute later the boys were back with their 
shining pails and waiting in expectation. Mr. 
Hardy took one of the pails. He opened his 
strong camp knife and in the center of one side 
of the pail made an X-shaped cut a little more 
than an inch across. The four triangular points 
left by the incision he pushed in with his finger. 
Exactly opposite this opening he cut a small 


44 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


round hole in the other side of the pail. Then 
he removed the bail, stretched it out a little, and 
hooked it just above this second opening, with 
one end of the bail at the top and the other at 
the bottom of the can. “ If this can had been 
flat on the bottom,” he explained, “ so that there 
was no place to hook the bail, I should have 
punched a hole to hook it in.” From a box of 
supplies he took out a candle and thrust it 
through the opening he had first made. The 
bent-in points of tin held the candle firmly. He 
struck a match and lighted the candle. In a few 
seconds it was burning brightly and throwing a 
strong beam of light wherever the can was 
pointed. 

“ There, you see, we have a first-class light,” 
said Mr. Hardy. “ I knew we should need a 
great many lights, and as we had n’t enough 
lanterns I asked you to bring the lard pails. This 
is what is called in the West a ‘ palouser.’ You 
can push the candle up as it burns. It will give 
you a good light and, strange though it may 
seem, it will never blow out. Now I want you to 
be sure never to stir abroad after dark without 
your lights.” 


THE CAMP FIRE 


45 


The boys were eager to test the new device. 
They got out their knives, and using Mr. 
Hardy’s palouser as a model, soon had their 
own pails transformed and their candles burning 
brightly. 

“ This reminds me,” Mr. Hardy said a minute 
later, “ I have n’t seen the first-aid kit since we 
got here. Will you see if you can find it? ” 

The boys scattered to their tents and made the 
first practical test of their new palousers. Rut 
they came back empty-handed. The kit was 
nowhere to be found. Mr. Hardy looked seri- 
ous. “ Can it be that we failed to bring it? ” he 
asked. “ It was a square package with a red 
cross in one corner. Does anyone remember see- 
ing it? ” 

“ I do,” said Henry Harper. “ I gave it to 
Lem Haskins when I distributed the bundles this 
morning.” 

Every eye was turned toward Lem. He had 
been standing behind the others, and now he 
hung his head. 

“ What about this?” inquired Mr. Hardy. 
“ Did you have this package? ” 

“ Y-es, sir,” faltered Lem, 


46 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ Then what has become of it? ” 

“ I put it in the seat with my blanket, and 
when we reached Muncy it was gone.” 

Mr. Hardy looked very stern. 4 4 Did n’t you 
hear me tell you to put your bundles in the racks 
overhead? ” 

“ Yes,” said Lem faintly. 

“ Then you have willfully disobeyed orders. 
Suppose one of us were to be hurt now, what 
should we do? You should have told me about 
this the minute you found it was gone.” 

“I — I did n’t know it was the first-aid kit,” 
said Lem. 

44 You have endangered the lives of all these 
boys by your disobedience,” continued Mr. 
Hardy. 44 1 want to think the situation over 
before I decide what shall be done to you. Mean- 
time I shall order another first-aid kit, and let 
us hope that no one will get hurt.” 

The little cloud that came over the camp with 
this episode was soon lifted. The wood was 
brought, skillfully piled up under the direction 
of Lew Heinsling, with birch bark and dry 
twigs at the bottom and heavy sticks of oak piled 
above in cone-shaped formation, and a match 


THE CAMP FIRE 


47 


applied. In a few minutes more the flames were 
leaping high, lighting up the whole clearing. 

Many of the boys had never before spent a 
night in the open. It was all new and impressive 
to them. Behind them the white canvas and the 
dark foliage of the forest threw back the gleam 
of the firelight. Before them lay the illumined 
clearing and beyond that a dark void. Not a 
single glimpse of the wonderful landscape they 
had looked on a few hours earlier could now be 
had. They were high in the air, looking out 
into infinite darkness. Above, the stars shone 
brightly, and here and there in the darkness be- 
low them twinkled solitary lights, as though the 
earth were reflecting the gleam of the lights in 
heaven. The shouts that followed the lighting 
of the fire quickly subsided and the boys sat 
silent under the influence of these strange sur- 
roundings. Now they could hear a gentle whis- 
pering in the trees, a thousand little noises of 
night life in the open, and the roaring of the 
rapids at the bridge, which had been indistin- 
guishable among the noises of the day. Sud- 
denly something darted past the camp fire and 
some of the boys started nervously. In a mo- 


48 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


ment they knew what it was, for from a near-by 
tree came the eery cry of a whippoorwill. 

“ Let ’s have a story,” said Roy Mercer. 

“ A story! ” everybody cried in unison. “ Mr. 
Hardy, a story! ” 

“ Very well, boys. What shall it be? ” replied 
the leader of the camp. 

“ Tell us the story of the spring,” suggested 
Lew Heinsling. 

“ It ’s a pretty long story,” said Mr. Hardy, 
“ because, to understand it right, I shall have to 
tell you the tale of this whole valley. Do you 
want to hear it? ” 

“ An Indian story! ” yelled the boys with de- 
light, sensing what was coming. 

“Yes, there ’s a good deal about Indians in 
it,” replied Mr. Hardy. “ But the story is prob- 
ably more enjoyable in the telling than it was in 
the making.” He paused a moment in thought. 
“ You have all studied American history,” he 
went on, “ and you know that it was nearly a 
hundred years after the white men began to 
settle along the ocean that they pushed their way 
back into these mountains. You see, there were 
then no roads, as you understand the term, that 


THE CAMP FIRE 


49 


led westward. There were no farms or fields. 
There was no food to be had excepting such as 
the traveler could get from the streams or the 
forest, and the traveler had to carry most of his 
provisions. So you see why it was that these 
mountains remained so long unpeopled by the 
palefaces. 

“ There was still another reason for this. In 
Pennsylvania the white men did not take away 
the Indians’ land by force, as was done in some of 
the other colonies, but they purchased the land, 
bit by bit, as it was needed for settlement. It 
was not until the year 1768 that the land along 
this valley was purchased from the Indians by 
the Penns. So you see that at the time of the 
Revolutionary War, when there were cities along 
the seacoast, such as Boston and Philadelphia 
and New York and Baltimore, there were only a 
few scattered settlers in this valley. This was 
then the frontier. 

“ When we reached camp this morning, we 
looked out over this valley, which is so wonder- 
fully beautiful that some of you could not find 
words to express your pleasure and admiration. 
Do you know the name of this valley? It is 


50 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


called the Black Hole Valley. It does not look 
much like a black hole now, does it? But when 
the first white settlers came into these mountains 
and looked out over this valley, it appeared so 
desolate and forbidding that they called it the 
Black Hole. It was full of swampy places and 
dense thickets, and the forest was so heavy that 
the very sunlight was shut out. But the settlers 
stayed here. They began to open little clearings 
in the forest, to till the soil, to build themselves 
houses of logs. That was because they had faith. 
They pictured to themselves a time when the 
forest should be cut away, the swamps drained, 
and this valley filled with prosperous farms, just 
as you have seen it to-day.” 

Another whippoorwill fluttered past the fire 
and darted so close to Willie Brown’s nose that 
he fell over on his back in a start. The boys 
laughed and began to tease him. “ Keep still,” 
said George Larkin, “ we want to hear about this 
spring.” 

Mr. Hardy had been laughing too. When the 
boys were quiet again, he said: “ One of the early 
settlers was a man named John Burrows. As a 
mere boy he had fought in the Revolutionary 


THE CAMP FIRE 


51 


War. General Washington made his headquar- 
ters in the home of John Burrows’ father just 
before the battle of Trenton. And little John, 
who was then sixteen years old — no older than 
some of you — crossed the Delaware River with 
General Washington on Christmas night of 1776 
and took part in the battle of Trenton, the first 
battle won by the Continental Army. F or four- 
teen months he was an express rider for General 
Washington. In after years he became a major 
general of the Pennsylvania militia. Like all 
these early settlers, John Burrows was a man of 
tremendous physical power and indomitable 
courage. A few years after the Revolution was 
over he moved with his family into this valley, 
bringing with him perhaps the fine horse that 
General Washington, as a token of his esteem, 
had given him to replace the horse that was shot 
under him at the battle of Monmouth. 

“ He arrived here in April of 1794 and for six 
months had to live in a log cabin sixteen feet 
square — a building only a trifle larger than my 
tent — which was already occupied by a family 
of eight persons. With him were his wife and 
five children, so that fifteen people lived in this 


52 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


one hut. It was almost a town in itself. But in 
November he moved to this very farm, where he 
had meantime been building a log house for him- 
self. 

“ Most of the land hereabout had by this time 
been purchased by settlers, but there was still one 
piece of fifty acres open to purchase. That fifty 
acres contained some fine bottom-land and a 
wonderful spring. That spring is the one from 
which you boys get your water. John Burrows 
had a neighbor who also wanted this fifty acres 
of land. As the land still belonged to the Penns, 
it was necessary, in order to get it, to go to the 
land office in Philadelphia and file application 
for the land. 

“ The other claimant started for Philadelphia 
on a Friday. John Burrows did not discover 
this until Sunday afternoon. Then he walked 
thirty miles down the river — the same thirty 
miles that you traveled to-day on the train after 
you reached the Susquehanna — and at Sun- 
bury, the county seat, he had the papers drawn 
up that were to be filed in Philadelphia. From 
Sunbury to Philadelphia is one hundred and 
fifty-six miles. Burrows decided that he could 


THE CAMP FIRE 


53 


go faster on foot than his rival on horseback, 
from which fact you may judge what kind of 
roads there were in those days. Starting early 
in the morning, he reached Philadelphia late the 
next night, covering the hundred and fifty-six 
miles in two days. Early on the morning of the 
third day he hastened to the land office and had 
hardly more than filed his application when in 
came his rival. But Burrows was first and Bur- 
rows got the land. Later, as you can see, he 
opened this clearing and built a better home be- 
side the spring he had won with so much effort.” 

The boys gave a cheer, and Roy Mercer set 
them all laughing by running over to the spring 
and getting a drink of water. 

“ The Indians! ” cried some of the boys, “ you 
did n’t tell us anything about them.” 

“ Oh! I ’m not done yet,” said Mr. Hardy. 
“ I told you this was a long story. I ’ll come to 
the Indians presently, but first I want to tell you 
a little more about General Burrows. To us 
his walk of a hundred and fifty-six miles in two 
days, through the wilderness, seems a remark- 
able achievement. General Burrows probably 
thought nothing of it, for the pioneers were al- 


54 IN CAMP AT PORT BRADY 


ways doing feats of this kind. Their muscles 
were so tough that they could endure almost any 
amount of exertion. The settlers were so few 
in number that they had to help each other out, 
and so they were always performing some act 
of courage or heroism. 

“ In the winter of 1802 General Burrows re- 
ceived an appeal from William Wells, who had 
settled in the woods where Wellsboro now stands, 
imploring him for food. To reach Wells, Gen- 
eral Burrows had to go fifty miles through the 
wilderness, cross the Alleghany Mountain, fight 
his way through deep snows, and run the risk 
of being killed by Indians.” 

“Where did he cross them?” asked Lew 
Heinsling. 

“ He crossed it, not them,” replied Mr. Hardy. 
“ I said the Alleghany Mountain, meaning one 
particular peak. All these are the Alleghany 
Mountains, but the Alleghany Mountain is that 
high summit just visible in the daytime beyond 
the cook’s tent — the great ridge to the north 
that towers above all its neighbors. That ’s the 
mountain General Burrows had to cross. You 
see it bars the way northward. It is often called 


THE CAMP FIRE 


55 


North Mountain. It is the highest peak in this 
part of Pennsylvania. 

“ But General Burrows never hesitated for a 
minute. He put eighty-eight hundred pounds 
of pork on two sleds drawn by horses, and with a 
man to drive the second sled, set off on the peri- 
lous journey. While crossing the mountain his 
assistant froze his feet up to the ankles and had 
to be left behind. All the pork was put on one 
sled, the four horses hitched to this, and General 
Burrows went on alone. He passed the body of 
a man who had frozen to death the day before. 

“ In crossing the ice of Pine Creek the horses 
broke through and the water came up midside 
deep on them. In plunging about they pulled 
the sled into the water. General Burrows got 
the horses ashore. Then he went under water 
and got an axe that was fastened to the sled and 
cut a road through the ice to the shore. Then 
he went under water again, got a log chain from 
the sledge, and fastened it to the runners. He 
backed his horses into the stream where he had 
cut the ice away, hitched them to the sled, and 
pulled his pork ashore. By that time it was dark 
and he had six miles still to go and four times 


56 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


more to cross the creek before he could reach 
shelter for the night at a frontier mill. It was 
midnight when he got there. He had not a dry 
thread on him and the cold was intense. There 
was neither stable nor hay for the horses and 
he was afraid that they would freeze to death. 

“ There were still fifteen miles to go, the snow 
was two feet deep, and there was hardly a track 
that could be followed. But General Burrows 
pushed on, and when he was within five miles of 
Mr. Wells’ house, he met a messenger coming 
who said he would show him a short cut. The 
messenger soon lost his way, the sled fell in a hole 
and upset, and the guide did n’t know which way 
to turn. By this time it was dark. General Bur- 
rows took his horses, and guiding himself by the 
stars, made his way through the forest to Mr. 
Wells’ home. The pork was left behind. Mr. 
Wells had no stable and no feed for the horses, 
and the log hut in which he lived was so low that 
General Burrows was unable to stand upright in 
it. In this tiny house an entire family lived. 
General Burrows sat by the fire all night. It 
took him all the next day to get the pork. The 
following day he started for home,” 


THE CAMP FIRE 


57 


“ Gee! ” ejaculated Roy. “ He was n’t afraid 
of anything, was he?” 

“ What I have just told you was not excep- 
tional,” continued Mr. Hardy, ignoring the in- 
terruption. “ In all this valley there were not 
enough settlers to make a respectable-sized town. 
These settlers were widely scattered. Sometimes 
a settler had no neighbor nearer than twenty- 
five or thirty miles. The fields were only tiny 
clearings in the forests and the crops often failed. 
Frequently settlers had to go thirty-five or 
forty miles to a mill to have their grain ground. 
And all the time they had to watch out for 
Indians. 

“ The women had to bolt the doors of the log 
houses while they were at work, and the men had 
to carry their rifles with them in the fields and 
wherever they went. The forest was so dense 
that it was very easy for Indians to steal upon 
settlers while they were at work and shoot them 
from ambush. Sometimes they would creep 
upon an isolated hut in the middle of the night, 
set fire to it, and shoot down the terrified dwell- 
ers as they rushed out of the building. Some- 
times they would set the grain afire. They would 


58 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


steal horses and cattle. Often they would take 
prisoners. 

“ To defend themselves from the Indians, the 
settlers organized a company of rangers, com- 
manded by Captain John Brady, the most fa- 
mous Indian fighter in all this valley. He was 
the Daniel Boone of this part of the country. 
ITe lived right here at Muncy, and his strong- 
hold, Fort Brady, was located within four miles 
of this spot.” 

“ Can we visit the place? ” spoke up George 
Larkin, who, more than any other of the boys, 
loved to learn about the early history of his 
country. 

“ Yes, indeed you may,” replied Mr. Hardy, 
“ and I should like to have you visit the place 
and see a little more of the country hereabout 
before I tell you the story of Captain John 
Brady. How would you like to take a tramp 
over to the site of the fort to-morrow afternoon? 
We have to get our boats down in the morning, 
you know.” 

“ Fine,” shouted the boys, and so a hike to 
Fort Brady was scheduled for the next after- 


noon. 


THE CAMP FIRE 


59 


Ry this time the fire had nearly burned itself 
out, for it had not been replenished during Mr. 
Hardy’s talk. There remained only a bed of 
glowing embers, which made but little light. So 
the palousers, which had been blown out, were 
relighted and the boys went to their tents. 

“ Get out your safety pins, boys,” called out 
Mr. Hardy. 

Then he showed them how to make sleeping 
bags of their blankets by folding one within the 
other and pinning the edges together. Two 
blankets had seemed unnecessary to the boys. 
Now they were glad that they had them. The 
mists from the river and the high elevation made 
their camp a cool place at night. Now that the 
camp fire had burned out they began to realize it. 
The day’s exertions and the long hours in the 
open had made them ready for bed. In a few 
minutes the camp was wrapped in silence. 


CHAPTER IV 


GETTING THE BOATS TO CAMP 

HHHE sun was just peeping over the ridge 
behind them when the boys turned out next 
morning. But early as they were, the cook had 
beaten them, and already twin columns of smoke 
were pouring upward from the cooking tent and 
a savory odor pervaded the air. The boys washed 
themselves in the cold water of the spring and 
attacked their breakfast with a will. 

After breakfast squad duties were assigned. 
One squad was to help the cook. They had to 
prepare the vegetables, wash the dishes, and set 
the table. This squad also had to keep the food 
supplies in order and see that all perishable foods 
were replaced in the spring box. 

A second squad kept the camp in order. They 
had to air the blankets, pick up paper and other 
litter, see that the walls of the tents were up in 
dry weather and down in wet, and keep the guy 
ropes at proper tension. 


GETTING THE BOATS TO CAMP 61 


The wood-choppers had to prepare fuel for 
cooking and camp fires. They cut only dead or 
dying timber and utilized all they cut, so that no 
inflammable materials were left on the ground. 

There was a sanitary squad, to gather the 
camp refuse and burn it daily, and to see that the 
latrine received frequent layers of sand. The 
leader of this squad was made sanitary inspector. 
He was to see that everything about the camp 
was kept in a clean and wholesome condition. 
Thus there w T ere four squads, with three boys to 
a squad. Each week the squads were to change, 
so that every boy would serve on each squad dur- 
ing his four weeks in camp. Finally a long 
clothesline was stretched between two trees be- 
hind the tents, and on certain days each boy had 
to wash his underclothes and stockings and hang 
them here to dry. 

By eight o’clock the boys were ready to go 
for the boats. At the Muncy freight station Mr. 
Hardy produced a pocket hatchet and the crates 
were quickly stripped away and piled in a vacant 
corner of a wareshed for use in recrating the 
boats. 

It was perhaps three hundred yards to the 


62 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


bank of the river. The boys had little trouble 
with the light canoes, but the heavier boats were 
bothersome. Mr. Hardy got some poles and the 
boats were carried on these, with a boy at each 
end of a pole. Soon all the craft were afloat. 

It was now discovered that neither Willie 
Brown nor Lem Haskins could swim. They 
were taken in the boats with the camp leaders. 
The little flotilla proceeded downstream the bet- 
ter part of a mile, and was close to the rapids 
by the bridge when Mr. Hardy turned his boat 
sharply ashore, and in a minute the six craft 
were drawn up on the shingle. 

“We are now at the site of the Warrior’s 
Spring,” said the camp leader. “ You cannot 
see this spring because it is now under water. 
The white men built a dam four miles below here 
that has raised the level of the river. But in the 
days when only the Indians roamed this country 
a very famous spring gushed forth from the 
sands close to where we are standing. The In- 
dians used to make their way from one part of 
the country to another along narrow trails, which 
were often so poorly defined that they could be 
followed only by means of marks on the trees. 


GETTING THE BOATS TO CAMP 63 


The trail along the Susquehanna came up the 
other side of the river and crossed the stream 
just where the riffles are, for this was the only 
spot hereabout where the river was shallow 
enough to be forded easily. The warriors always 
stopped at this spring on their journeys, and so 
this spot became the scene of many an Indian 
encampment. The ground on which you are 
standing has often been trodden by moccasined 
feet.” 

The boys showed their interest by crowding 
about the speaker. 

“ I want to call your attention to one thing 
more,” continued Mr. Hardy. “ Though the In- 
dians had no book knowledge they were very 
wonderful engineers. They knew how to find 
the easiest grades and blaze the best trails. The 
white men have never been able to surpass them 
at this. The railroad track over which you came 
yesterday follows very closely the old Indian 
trail. Wherever you travel through these Alle- 
ghany Mountains you will find that the steel 
highways are following old Indian trails.” 

Then pointing to the rapids, Mr. Hardy said : 
“ There is nothing dangerous about this little 


64 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


piece of fast water. Just keep your bow at right 
angles to the waves so as to cut through them. 
Don’t let your canoe swing around into the 
trough of the waves. Grip the sides of your boat 
tight with your knees and keep your canoe going 
with plenty of headway. I will go ahead and 
show you the channel.” 

The flotilla shoved off. Almost before they 
knew it one boat after another was caught by the 
current and swept under the bridge and on 
through the swirling waters. When they passed 
the Robinson farmhouse, standing high on the 
river bluff, Teddy was watching them admir- 
ingly and waving his hat and shouting for all he 
was worth. The boys gave an answering shout, 
swept on downstream to their little wharf, and 
drove the bows of their boats up on the shining 
sands of the cove. 


CHAPTER V 


THE HIKE TO FORT BRADY 

J^INNER over and the dishes washed, the 
boys set out for Fort Brady. Three miles 
brought them to the center of Muncy, a pretty 
little town that got its name from the Monsey 
Indians, the Wolf tribe of the Six Nations, who 
once occupied the land. In an open field just 
north of the town they came to a little mound 
which Mr. Hardy told them was the site of 
Fort Brady. 

To the north was Muncy Creek, to the west 
the Susquehanna, while east of them lay Muncy 
Creek Valley. Southward the land sloped up- 
ward to their own ridge. The boys looked the 
site over carefully, then followed Mr. Hardy 
along the bank of the creek to a point not far 
from the Susquehanna and opposite the mouth 
of Wolf Run, which comes into the creek from 
the north. And here, sitting in the shade of a 


66 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


great willow tree, Mr. Hardy told them the 
story of Captain John Brady. 

“ On yonder point of land between Wolf Run 
and the Susquehanna,” began Mr. Hardy, point- 
ing across the creek, “ the Indians of this neigh- 
borhood had their headquarters. It is a natural 
stronghold, for it is guarded on three sides by 
water. In the field behind us Captain Brady had 
his fort.” 

“ Maybe he sometimes came scouting right 
where we are now,” suggested Johnnie Lee, his 
eyes wide open with interest. 

“ I have n’t a bit of doubt he did,” replied Mr. 
Hardy. “ This willow must have been standing 
in his day. There were bushes here then as now, 
and these made a splendid cover. I have no 
doubt these bushes used also to be full of 
Indians — ” 

“ Haw! ” screamed a hoarse voice near them, 
while sounds of a struggle came from the bushes. 
Everybody was startled and Willie Brown 
jumped up with his eyes fairly popping out of 
his head. But it was n’t Indians. It was only a 
frightened crow beating its way out of the bushes 
to get away from these undesirable neighbors. 


THE HIKE TO FORT BRADY 67 


Everybody laughed. But little Willie looked 
carefully around through the bushes before he 
sat down again. 

When the laughter had ceased, Mr. Hardy 
went on: “ Captain Brady was born just a year 
after George Washington. Brady’s home was in 
Delaware. There he went to school, and he had 
even taught school awhile before he moved with 
his parents to the Cumberland Valley, where, 
you will remember, the battle of Gettysburg was 
fought.” 

He paused, then continued: “ In the French 
and Indian War — by the way, when was 
that?” 

“ From 1754 to 1763,” answered George Lar- 
kin promptly. 

“ Good,” said Mr. Hardy. “ In that war both 
the French and the English made use of the 
Indians, urging them to the most terrible out- 
rages. So throughout this entire frontier the 
savages began a series of murderous raids. 
Troops were raised to defend the frontier and 
John Brady, though but recently married, went 
off to face the Indians. He was made a captain 
in 1763 for bravery. 


68 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ After the war the proprietors granted lands 
to Brady and other officers in recognition of 
their services. Captain Brady received land on 
both sides of the Susquehanna a little more than 
twenty miles downstream. For seven years he 
lived there. 

“ But when the Revolution commenced, he 
left his farm and his family and went off to fight 
for freedom. He first served with the West 
Branch Associators, who enlisted for twenty-one 
months. He became a major. Then Washing- 
ton sent him home to defend the pioneers. 

“ But while Brady was still a soldier in the 
Continental Army, he made several trips be- 
tween his home and the eastern battle-fields. 
Once, when Washington needed him badly, he 
started down the Susquehanna in the dead of 
winter, when he and his fellows had to fight their 
way through the ice packs. Once he started in 
summer, traveling overland most of the way. 
This time he took along his little son John, a lad 
of your own years, to bring back the horses. 
Think of riding one hundred and fifty miles 
through the wilderness alone. The boys in those 
days had to be as brave as their fathers.” 


THE HIKE TO FORT BRADY 69 


“ And were the woods full of Indians? ” asked 
Johnnie Lee. 

“ Indeed they were,” answered Mr. Hardy. 

“ I am glad it is now and not then,” said Wil- 
lie Brown. 

“Gee! I wish it was then,” cried Roy. 
“ Maybe I ’d get a chance to go off with the 
soldiers.” 

“You haven’t told us yet what Captain 
Brady did up here,” said George Larkin. 

“ Well,” continued the camp leader, “ Captain 
Brady was so badly injured that he had to stop 
fighting for awhile. By that time the Indians 
were shooting and scalping people everywhere. 
Most of the men were away with the army. 
Those that were left behind were so busy raising 
food that they could not stop to chase the Indians 
away. Something had to be done about it. So 
General Washington ordered Captain Brady to 
take Captain Hawkins Boone, a cousin of Dan- 
iel Boone, and two young lieutenants and come 
back here to the frontier and raise a company of 
rangers to protect the settlers. It was then that 
Captain Brady moved up the river and built 
his fort in this very field behind us. Most of 


70 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


the settlers lived downstream. You see, Cap- 
tain Brady put himself between the Indians 
and the people Washington sent him to 
defend. 

“ But that was just like Captain Brady. He 
was n’t afraid of anything. One time he saw the 
Indian squaws paddling across the river and 
concealing rifles and tomahawks in the bushes 
opposite Derr’s mill, near his home twenty miles 
downstream. He could also see a number of 
warriors across the river by the mill. Captain 
Brady knew that trouble was brewing. Without 
a moment’s hesitation he paddled across the 
river, single-handed, and found that the miller 
had given the Indians a barrel of whisky. Brady 
walked straight through the group of warriors 
and upset the barrel, spilling all of the whisky on 
the ground. The Indians were very angry. They 
threatened Captain Brady, but not one of them 
dared lay a finger on him. 

“ That same fearlessness led him to move up 
here. He and Captain Hawkins Boone got their 
rangers together and scoured this whole frontier. 
Every time they heard of an Indian outrage or a 
threatened attack they hurried to the scene, and 


THE HIKE TO FORT BRADY 71 


it had to be a very slippery Indian that could get 
away from them.” 

“ Did the rangers have many battles with the 
Indians?” asked Roy. 

“ Lots of them,” replied Mr. Hardy. “ Their 
hardest fight was when they helped to destroy 
Tioga. Fifty miles beyond old North Mountain 
the Indians had their stronghold at a town they 
called Tioga. A town still stands there. You 
will find it on the map uhder the name of Athens. 
From this stronghold the Indians used to start 
on their terrible raids. 

“ So Colonel Hartley was ordered to take a 
great force of soldiers and destroy it. But all 
told he could collect only two hundred men. He 
started from Fort Augusta in September, 1778. 
The rangers joined him here at Muncy. They 
were the backbone of the little army. The party 
departed, probably from this very field, at four 
o’clock in the morning. Each man carried food 
for twelve days. 

“ They followed a hardly distinguishable In- 
dian war trail. It was a terrible journey, for 
the fall rains beat down upon them unmercifully. 
They had to sleep on the bare ground, wade 


72 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


through terrible swamps, and fight their way 
through dense thickets and difficult mountain 
passes. Their path led up Lycoming Creek, 
which comes into the Susquehanna a dozen miles 
above us. This creek they waded or swam more 
than twenty times. They were wet all the time, 
but nothing could stop them. 

“ Five days after they left Muncy they met an 
outpost of Indians. Then they came to a camp 
of seventy Indians and routed them. They 
reached Tioga, beat the Indians, and burned the 
town. Some of the soldiers and many of the 
Indians were killed. Then they started for 
home. 

“ Tioga was on the other branch of the river. 
Many of the soldiers were from the fort at Sun- 
bury. So the party came back along the North 
Branch. Seventy of them were in captured In- 
dian canoes. The rest marched by land. 

“ That divided the soldiers and gave the In- 
dians a chance to attack them. Lieutenant 
Sweeney with a rear guard of thirty men and 
five scouts was suddenly set upon by savages who 
came whooping through the forest. The soldiers 
could not tell how many Indians there were and 


THE HIKE TO FORT BRADY 73 


they started to flee. The Indians would have 
killed every one of them had not Captain Brady 
with his rangers landed from the canoes, and 
spreading out through the forest, advanced upon 
the Indians, firing their rifles and shouting ter- 
rifically. The Indians ran. The white men had 
beaten them at their own game. So, by this piece 
of strategy, Captain Brady and his rangers 
saved the day. The party got back to Sunbury 
on the fifth of October, having fought several 
battles and traveled three hundred miles through 
the wilderness in fourteen days.” 

“ Some hike! ” exclaimed Alec. 

“ Well I guess,” chimed in Lew Heinsling. 

“ Look the route up on a map,” suggested Mr. 
Hardy, “ and see just what a wonderful journey 
it was.” 

“ Captain Brady himself was killed the follow- 
ing April,” continued Mr. Hardy after a pause. 
“ One day he went upstream to get provisions 
from another fort. He took with him several 
men and a team. On the return Brady took a 
short cut, leaving the men to follow the regular 
path. He had one companion. They reached a 
dense clump of bushes not so very far from where 


74 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


you are sitting, when three rifles rang out and 
Brady fell from his horse dead. His companion 
ran to get help. When the soldiers arrived, there 
lay Brady’s body untouched. Probably there 
was no scalp on the entire frontier that the In- 
dians would have prized more than Brady’s, but 
they were so afraid of Brady’s rangers that they 
fled instantly after firing their rifles. 

“ Brady’s watch and money were still in his 
clothes. Suspended by a cord around his neck, 
and protected by a little green bag, was Brady’s 
commission from General Washington. This he 
prized so highly that he always carried it next to 
his heart. When those early patriots said, ‘ Give 
me liberty or give me death,’ they meant it. No 
wonder England could n’t whip them.” 

“You bet she could n’t,” piped up Johnnie 
Lee. 

“ Or anybody else,” said Roy boastfully. 

“ What became of little John? ” asked George. 
“ Did he get back from the battle-fields all 
right? ” 

“ Tell us about John,” chorused the boys. 

“ Little John was as much of a hero as his 
father,” said Mr. Hardy. “ He went all the way 


THE HIKE TO PORT BRADY 75 


to New Jersey with his father and marched with 
him for a little time. One day Captain Brady 
told John to start for home. John started, but a 
soldier told him that next day there was going to 
be a great battle. So John turned straight 
around and went back. The next day the battle 
of the Brandywine took place and little John 
fought by the side of his father all through the 
battle. He peppered the British well with his 
rifle until that was captured, for both he and his 
father, who were in the hottest part of the battle, 
were wounded. But he got another rifle. The 
government, because of his bravery, gave him a 
new one. That was better than getting a hero 
medal, was n’t it? ” 

“ You bet! ” cried the boys. “ You could do 
something with a rifle.” 

“ But though young John had proved that 
he was a good soldier,” went on Mr. Hardy, “ he 
had to go back home. John’s father and his 
eldest brother, Samuel, who was already a lieu- 
tenant at twenty, were both fighting with Wash- 
ington. His brother James, who was a sergeant 
though but eighteen, was fighting the Indians 


76 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


under Colonel Hartley. John was the oldest boy 
left. So he had to go home to run the farm. 

“ And really it took more bravery to do that 
than it did to march with the soldiers and tight. 
For the soldiers usually knew when the enemy 
was coming, but the settlers could never tell when 
the savages would swoop down upon them out of 
the forest. So John went home and tended the 
cattle and chopped the wood and plowed the 
fields, and while he guided the plow his brother 
Hugh, who was only eleven years old, walked 
beside him carrying his rifle for him. After Cap- 
tain Brady was killed young John became the 
head of the family. He took care of his mother 
and ran the farm and helped to drive away the 
Indians. He was just as much of a hero as his 
father had been.” 

In a few minutes the boys were headed for 
camp. Instead of returning through town, they 
struck off to the river and followed down the 
bank. In a field near the bridge, overlooking the 
Warrior’s Spring, a farmer had been plowing. 
They were trudging through the upturned earth 
when Roy gave a cry and held aloft a black flint 
arrowhead that he had picked up. It was with- 


THE HIKE TO FORT BRADY 77 


out a flaw. The other boys examined it with 
envious eyes. 

“ Would you boys like to see a whole collection 
of Indian relics? ” asked Mr. Young. 

“ Yes indeed,’’ was the answer. 

“ Then if you ’d like to make the trip, I ’ll take 
you to Lewisburg while we are here,” said Mr. 
Young, “ and show you the Bucknell collection. 
That collection was mostly gathered in this 
valley.” The boys gave a shout of delight, and 
so it was settled that they should go. 

Camp was reached in time for a dip in the 
river. Then came supper. Just before the camp 
fire flickered out that night and the boys started 
for their tents, Mr. Hardy said: “ Boys, I have 
told you a great deal about the history of this 
valley, how it was transformed from an ugly 
black hole to the smiling valley it is now. Where 
once our forefathers had to find their way 
through the forests by feeling for marks on the 
trees, we now have wonderful highways of steel 
along which we can ride in the greatest comfort 
at almost a mile a minute. Now a farmer can 
plow his fields and a traveler can journey from 
town to town with no danger of being shot or 


78 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


scalped. You boys to-day have peace and plenty. 
You owe it all to the brave men and women like 
Captain Brady and his wife who came into these 
wild regions and subdued them and overcame the 
savages at such terrible cost of toil and danger. 

“You may think the struggle is all over, that 
civilization is an accomplished thing. The fight 
is not over, and it never will be over. To-day we 
do not have to face Indians and famine, but we 
have to fight social injustice, disease, and human 
greed. You don’t know much about these things 
yet, but you will pretty soon. When you do, I 
want you to remember that it ’s up to you to 
fight these things just as bravely as Captain 
Brady and little John fought the enemies of their 
day. I hope you will never forget the story of 
Captain Brady.” 

“We shan’t,” replied Henry Harper. “ I 
propose that we remember him in the name of 
our camp. Let ’s call it Camp Brady.” 

“ Hurrah for Camp Brady! ” cried the camp- 
ers, and Camp Brady it became by unanimous 
consent. 


CHAPTER VI 


CANOEING AND AN ACCIDENT 


|^EXT day began the various camp drills, 
which had been omitted up to this time to 
give the boys an opportunity to become ac- 
quainted with their surroundings. Before break- 
fast Mr. Hardy put the campers through a 
setting-up drill. Both Mr. Hardy and Mr. 
Young were trained athletes and were accus- 
tomed to pretty stiff drills of this sort. For ten 
minutes Mr. Hardy kept the boys at it as hard as 
they could go, bending and twisting and doubling 
up in the customary exercises. 

“ That ’ll do,” he said at the end of the 


period. 

“ Pretty stiff, was n’t it? ” said Robert Martin, 
who, though perfectly at home in the water, was 
a bit awkward on land. 

“ Pooh ! That was easy,” said Roy, and to 
prove it he turned three handsprings. 

“ Did you notice how easily Mr. Hardy did 


80 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


it?” asked Carl. “I guess he’s had lots of 
practice.” 

Just then the cook began to beat on a pan 
and the boys made a rush for the breakfast table. 
Thereafter the setting-up exercise was a part of 
the daily routine, the camp leaders taking turns 
in conducting the drill. 

The day was cool and pleasant and the camp- 
ers hustled through their squad duties as fast 
as they had gone through the setting-up drill. 
In a very short time the blankets were aired, the 
dishes washed and put away, the vegetables pre- 
pared for dinner, and the day’s supply of wood 
chopped. In fact more than the day’s supply 
was chopped, because the axe brigade split a 
little more wood each day than was actually 
needed. This extra wood, prepared against a 
rainy day, was heaped up under one corner of 
the cook’s tent. 

“Everybody out for canoe practice!” called 
Mr. Young when things were shipshape about 
camp. The boys started for the cove pell-mell, 
racing down the slope as hard as they could. 
The camp leaders jogged briskly after them and 
found twelve boys at the wharf still panting for 


CANOEING AND AN ACCIDENT 81 


breath. Charley Russell and Jimmy Donnelly 
had finished ahead of the others, but so close to- 
gether that they were still disputing as to which 
had won. They were the fastest runners in camp 
and a good-natured rivalry existed between them. 

The two boys who could not swim and two 
others who could swim only a little got into the 
boats with Mr. Hardy and Mr. Young. The 
four canoes were manned just as they had been 
the day before in shooting the rapids, with the 
best paddlers as steersmen. The flotilla now set 
out, heading diagonally downstream toward a 
long indentation in the opposite shore. In this 
elongated cove the water was not more than three 
feet deep and there was practically no current. 
It was an ideal place in which to learn to handle 
a canoe. In the still water the paddler could see 
the effect of each stroke, and even if he did upset 
there was no danger. 

Alec Cunningham, Charley Russell, Lew 
Heinsling, and Robert Martin all could paddle 
very well. They were put ashore and the other 
boys were placed in the canoes. For perhaps an 
hour the camp leaders worked with these boys, 
showing each how to dip his paddle properly and 


82 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


feather it on the return swing, how to sweep it 
straight and deep along the side of the canoe, and 
how by a twist of the wrist to turn the paddle 
blade outward at the finish of the stroke and so 
keep the canoe going straight ahead instead of 
in circles, as would result if the paddle stroke 
were not ended with this final twist. 

The boys soon grasped the principles involved 
and were able to send the canoes wherever they 
wanted to go, though of course* they did it awk- 
wardly and with some difficulty. Then the 
novices were put into the canoes in pairs and 
taught how to paddle together. At the end of 
the drill they could navigate their craft fairly 
well — surprisingly well in view of the fact that 
they were beginners. But that was because the 
camp leaders had explained to them very clearly 
at the outset how to make each stroke and had 
shown the effect of each stroke. 

“ I ’m going across the river for a time to see 
a friend of mine,” said Mr. Hardy after awhile. 
“ I ’ll leave one of the boats for you and you can 
practice rowing as well as paddling. I don’t 
want any of you four who can’t swim well to 
go in deep water.” Then turning to Alec, Mr. 


CANOEING AND AN ACCIDENT 83 


Hardy said: “As you are the best paddler in 
camp, I am going to put you in charge of prac- 
tice while I am gone. Just keep on practicing 
in this cove.” Then the camp leaders rowed 
across the river. 

There was no doubt that Alec was a very skill- 
ful paddler. He could handle a canoe almost 
as well as a grown man. But Alec had a ten- 
dency to “ show off.” So after he had led the 
paddlers once or twice up and down the cove, he 
said: “Now I’m going to show you how to 
handle a boat in rough water.” 

He headed for the middle of the stream, where 
the wind, which had recently risen, was kicking 
up the whitecaps. Jimmy Donnelly was with 
him. Jimmy was not a good canoeist. 

“ I don’t believe Mr. Hardy will like it if we 
go out there,” said Jimmy. 

“ Pooh! ” said Alec. “ It is n’t dangerous.” 

“ The waves look pretty big to me,” replied 
Jimmy. “ I ’d rather not go.” 

“ They ’re nothing but little ripples,” returned 
Alec. “ You can go ashore if you ’re afraid. 
I ’m going out.” 

“ I ’m not afraid,” answered Jimmy, “ but 


84 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


I don’t think we ought to go. Mr. Hardy 
would n’t like it.” 

“ Did n’t he put me in charge? ” said Alec. 

Before Jimmy could answer, Alec dug his 
paddle into the water and sent the canoe skim- 
ming out toward the middle of the stream. 
When they got into the waves, they found them 
a good deal more formidable than they had ap- 
peared from near the shore. The light canoe 
began to toss about. But Alec really was a very 
skillful paddler and now he was on his mettle. 
He kept the canoe cutting through the waves in 
very pretty fashion. It really did seem as though 
there was no danger. 

But when he attempted to turn back to the 
cove and swung the boat into the trough of the 
waves, an unusually large roller struck it, and in 
a second the two boys were struggling in the 
water. They grasped the sides of the canoe; 
but swim as hard as they might, they could make 
little progress toward either bank, for the canoe 
was full of water. So there was nothing to do 
but hold fast to the boat as it floated down- 
stream and hope for rescue. 

Fortunately the camp leaders concluded their 


CANOEING AND AN ACCIDENT 85 


visit at almost the same time that the boys upset. 
Mr. Young saw them struggling in the water. 
The leaders jumped into their boat and rowed 
swiftly to the overturned canoe. They hauled 
the distressed lads over the stern of the boat to 
safety. They took the canoe in tow, gathered in 
the paddles, and rowed to the cove where the 
canoe was emptied of water. 

“How did this happen?” demanded Mr. 
Hardy sternly. 

Alec hung his head. 

“ You told me to teach them how to paddle,” 
he said half defiantly, half fearfully, “ and I was 
showing them how to paddle in rough water.” 

“ I told you we ’d get into trouble,” whispered 
Jimmy. 

Mr. Hardy was greatly provoked, but he knew 
how to keep his temper. 

“ I ’ll think this over,” was all he said. 

Then the flotilla got under way in its original 
order, and running straight before the wind, 
crossed the river in safety and landed at its own 
cove. 

“ When each of you can handle a canoe well 
and swim halfway across the river,” announced 


'4 


86 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Mr. Hardy as they tied the boats fast, “ we ’ll 
go on a long trip down the Susquehanna.” 

“ Hurrah! ” cried the boys, and they made a 
dash for camp and dinner — all but Willie 
Brown. He walked along behind the others 
looking very glum indeed. 

“ Why, what ’s the matter, Willie? ” asked 
Mr. Young as he came up with him. 

“ I can’t go on the canoe trip,” replied Willie, 
his eyes beginning to grow moist. 

“ You can’t? ” said Mr. Young. “ Who said 
you couldn’t?” 

“Nobody,” replied Willie; “but I can’t 
swim.” 

“Oh! that’s the reason, eh?” laughed Mr. 
Young. “ Well, never mind about that. We ’re 
going to teach you to swim.” 

“ But I can’t learn,” answered Willie. “ I ’ve 
tried.” 

“ Wait and see,” returned Mr. Young. And 
he strode away to join Mr. Hardy. 


CHAPTER VII 


WILLIE BROWN LEARNS TO SWIM 

their way to the wharf late that afternoon 
Mr. Hardy and Mr. Young discussed the 
case of Willie Brown. Most of the afternoon 
had been occupied in finding a suitable place to 
play ball, in staking out a diamond, and in mak- 
ing some sacks for bases. During the prepara- 
tion of the ball ground the camp leaders had had 
little opportunity to discuss Willie Brown and 
his strange lack of belief in himself. Now they 
talked the matter over at some length. 

“ I believe it ’s because he has never had a fair 
show,” said Mr. Young at length. “ He ’s very 
small, rather timid, and he has probably always 
been pushed aside. No one has been willing to 
show him how to do things. And because he 
didn't do things well, I suppose his playmates 
have told him he could n't do them. Anyhow, he 
has come to believe that he can’t do anything.” 

“ I think you are right, Will,” replied Mr. 


88 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Hardy. “ The lad is a bright little fellow. 
He ’ s quick enough mentally. I never saw any- 
one grasp a thing quicker than he did the princi- 
ple of paddling a canoe this morning. I really 
believe he made more progress than any of the 
others, because he knew absolutely nothing to 
start with.” 

“ Then what we must do,” said Mr. Young, 
“ is to show him very carefully how to do a thing, 
and make him believe that if he knows how the 
rest is easy. We must teach him the great prin- 
ciple of all achievement — that accomplishment 
is merely knowing how plus practice.” 

By this time the party had reached the wharf. 
Just across the stream a great sandy beach 
sloped gently toward the deep water. It was an 
ideal place in which to learn to swim. The camp 
leaders and the four boys to be instructed got 
into the rowboats. 

“ The rest of you boys can swim here off the 
wharf,” said Mr. Hardy. “ You are all good 
swimmers, but I don’t want you to venture too 
far out into the stream. The water is very deep. 
If you should get into difficulty it might not be 
easy to get ashore,” 


WILLIE BROWN LEARNS TO SWIM 89 


He started to row away, then turned and 
added: “ Any boy who disobeys will be forbid- 
den to swim hereafter until I think he has learned 
to mind. Twice already some one of you has 
disobeyed orders and each time trouble has 
resulted.” 

“We promised Mr. Hardy that if he would 
bring us camping, we ’d do just as he told us,” 
spoke up Roy. “ It is n’t the square thing if 
we don’t do it. I don’t care what he tells me to 
do, I ’m going to do it.” 

“ So am I.” “ And I,” echoed the other boys. 

“ That ’s the way to talk,” said Henry Har- 
per. “ The best way we can show our gratitude 
to Mr. Hardy is by giving him no trouble.” 

When the boats reached the opposite shore, Mr. 
Young secured a number of stakes which he 
drove into the sand along the water’s edge at 
intervals of twenty-five yards. He tied some 
strips of an old red handkerchief to these stakes. 
The stakes were intended as guides for the new 
swimmers, to tell them just how far they had 
swum. 

The two boys who could swim a little were 
told to wade out into the stream until the water 


90 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


was just above their waists, and starting at the 
first stake, swim downstream as far as they 
could. They were to keep practicing until they 
could go at least from the first stake to the 
second. 

Then the camp leaders took Willie Brown and 
Lem Haskins in hand, explained to them simply 
and thoroughly the principles of swimming, and 
showed them how to make the first necessary 
movements. But they did not let them attempt 
to swim at all that first day. They kept the two 
boys practicing first the arm stroke and then 
the leg stroke, until they could do both 
readily. 

Then the leaders showed the other boys how to 
improve their stroke and how to manage their 
breathing better. The result was at once appar- 
ent. Carl Dexter immediately swam from the 
first to the third post, while George Larkin got 
within five yards of the third post. Before that 
neither of them had been able to swim more 
than twenty-five yards. They were delighted. 

“ You see,” said Mr. Young, “ it ’s just a 
matter of knowing how plus practice. You 
know how now. Nothing can keep you from 


WILLIE BROWN LEARNS TO SWIM 91 


becoming expert swimmers but yourselves. 
Practice will make perfect.” 

The rest of the period at the beach was de- 
voted to hunting for shells. Mr. Hardy had 
found two fine white mussel shells that gleamed 
in the sunlight like great pearls. He would go 
under water at a depth of three feet and hide 
these shells under a very thin layer of sand. 
Then the boys were required to find them. At 
first they did this very gingerly. Soon they 
found that going under did not hurt them a par- 
ticle. They learned to hold their breath and to 
open their eyes under water. It surprised them 
very much to find how well they could see. In 
a very few minutes the four boys were bobbing 
up and down, getting their breath and plunging 
under water again, and scratching vigorously in 
the sand to find the hidden shells. Mr. Hardy 
kept them at this game until they tired of it. 
Then they got into the boats and rowed across 
the river. 

The boys did not know it, but Mr. Hardy had 
been teaching them by this simple method not to 
fear the water. In a single afternoon they had 
lost entirely the dread which most beginners 


92 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


have of getting their heads under water, so that 
now they were ready to make rapid strides in the 
art of learning to swim. 

Indeed Willie Brown had become so much in- 
terested that that night he practiced the strokes 
on his cot as long as he could keep awake, and 
the next afternoon, with Mr. Hardy buoying 
him up a little, he actually swam twenty strokes. 
His enthusiasm for swimming became un- 
bounded. Here was something that he actually 
believed he could do, and that belief acted like 
a tonic on Willie. In a very little while he was 
able to swim from the first stake to the second, 
and soon after that to double the distance. 

As for Lem Haskins, he liked the water as 
much as anybody, and now that he understood 
exactly what he was trying to do, he made rapid 
progress. Being a large boy, with strong 
muscles, he was soon able to swim strongly. 

Within a week the novices had made such 
progress that it was no longer necessary to take 
them across the river to the shallow water. 
Thereafter they swam with the other boys at the 
wharf. Swimming in the deep water was the 
one thing now necessary to give them perfect 


WILLIE BROWN LEARNS TO SWIM 93 


confidence in themselves. Their development 
was remarkable. The daily swim, which came 
the last thing in the afternoon, became probably 
the most enjoyable event in the camp routine. 

Teddy Robinson, who was very busy these 
days helping with the harvest, was allowed to 
join the swimmers in the afternoon, and often 
in the evening he would make one in the circle 
about the camp fire. So he came gradually to 
know the boys better and better, and the campers 
liked him very much, especially Lew, whose 
friendship for Teddy grew stronger every day. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE MAN WHO KNEW IT ALL 

fJ^HE group around the camp fire was always 
a jolly one. One night Roy Mercer started 
the fun by challenging Carl Dexter to a hand 
wrestle. They had a lively battle while all the 
rest looked on and cheered their favorite. 

“ You can beat him, Roy,” sang out Johnnie 
Lee. “ Stick to it.” 

“ He ’s easy, Carl,” said Lem Haskins. 

Roy put up a plucky fight, but Carl was a 
year older and bigger, and his superior strength 
finally told. Roy went down in defeat. Then 
the challenges began to come fast and three or 
four struggling groups occupied the stage at the 
same time. 

Roy looked on for awhile. Suddenly he 
shouted to Carl: “ I can lick you in a cockfight! 
Come on! ” 

Carl accepted the challenge. A great circle 
was drawn in the firelight and the two boys, 


THE MAN WHO KNEW IT ALL 95 


each holding one foot with the hand opposite, 
began to hop around in the circle and try to 
butt each other out of it. 

The cockfight proved to he a harder battle 
than the hand wrestle had been. The combatants 
would back off and then hop together with a 
mighty crash, but each managed to keep his foot- 
ing. Then they pursued other tactics. Neither 
was successful until Roy, pretending to flee, 
hopped rapidly away from Carl around the edge 
of the ring. Carl pursued him as fast as he 
could hop. Suddenly Roy whirled about like a 
flash and sprang into his pursuer. He caught 
him amidships and bowled him over, sending 
him spinning so hard that Carl never stopped 
rolling until one of his feet was actually in the 
camp fire. He drew it out quickly and was 
not hurt. The other boys cheered Roy and took 
up the game. But after awhile they got tired 
of cockfights, too, and George Larkin called for 
a story. 

“ Tell us a story,” cried the boys. 

“ Very well,” said Mr. Hardy. “ I am going 
to tell you the story of the Man Who Knew It 
All.” 


96 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


He paused a moment while the boys settled 
themselves with expectant faces. 

“ Shortly before the French and Indian 
War,” began Mr. Hardy, “ George Washington 
explored the region that is now Pittsburgh. He 
pointed out to the government that an English 
fort ought to be built on the point of land where 
the Alleghany and the Ohio Rivers come together 
at what is now the heart of Pittsburgh. So the 
English started to erect a fort there, but a 
superior force of Frenchmen came down the 
Alleghany River, from Canada, drove them 
away, and turned the fort into a French strong- 
hold which they named Fort Duquesne. 

“ During the war, soon afterward, the Eng- 
lish decided to recapture this fort. General 
Braddock, who had just come from England to 
take charge of the British forces in America, 
decided to command this expedition in person 
and strike a blow at the French that would never 
be forgotten. It never has been, but we remem- 
ber it in a manner very different from the way 
General Braddock intended that we should. 

“ General Braddock collected thirteen hun- 
dred soldiers, of whom a considerable number 


THE MAN WHO KNEW IT ALL 97 


were Colonial troops — men like Daniel Boone, 
Captain Brady, and General Burrows. But be- 
cause these men had never learned to march 
proudly in line with their rifles over their shoul- 
ders, and because they wore buckskin hunting 
suits instead of fine red uniforms, General Brad- 
dock despised them. George Washington was 
one of the officers of these Colonial troops, but 
General Braddock treated him, too, with great 
contempt. 

“ The march to Fort Duquesne began in June 
of 1755. The troops started from Cumberland, 
Maryland. They had a hundred miles to go 
through this terrible wilderness. The Colonial 
troops would have followed the Indian trails, 
but General Braddock declared that this was no 
way for an army to march, and so he sent ahead a 
brigade of axemen to clear a road so that the 
troops might march as they marched on the 
open plains of Europe. You can see for your- 
selves how foolish this was. The mountains were 
full of hostile Indians, who could come sneaking 
down from every side. Washington pointed this 
out, but Braddock would not listen to him. 

“ The march to Fort Duquesne, which would 


98 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


have taken native woodsmen only a few days, 
occupied weeks. The road the axemen cut was 
only twelve feet wide, and the army was strung 
out for four miles. It got within eight miles of 
Fort Duquesne when nine hundred French and 
Indians fell on it. Nothing could have suited 
the enemy better than this thin line of soldiers 
out in the open. The Indians crept up on all 
sides and began to mow down the troops. This 
new kind of warfare terrified the English. They 
could see nothing to shoot at because the enemy 
were all behind trees. All they could do was to 
fire useless volleys into the forest. The In- 
dians kept crowding closer and shooting and 
scalping them by the score. Washington begged 
Braddock to let him take his Colonials and drive 
the Indians back. Braddock haughtily refused. 
For three hours he kept his men standing in 
line while the Indians murdered them. It was 
the most awful slaughter that ever occurred in 
America. ^Before Braddock ordered a retreat 
more than eight hundred of his thirteen hundred 
men had been shot down and sixty-three of his 
eighty-six officers were totally disabled. 

“ As it was, the army was saved from total 


THE MMM WH0 KNEW IT ALL 99 


annihilation only by George Washington, who, 
the minute Braddock fell mortally wounded, ral- 
lied the fleeing soldiers and plunged into the 
forest with his own Virginia woodsmen, beating 
off the pursuing Indians. Two horses were shot 
under Washington and four bullets pierced his 
clothing. 

“ So what should have been a glorious victory 
ended in a terrible disaster. Hundreds of men 
were killed, hundreds of boys made fatherless, 
just because one man would not listen to advice. 
He knew it all.” 

There was a murmur of indignation when the 
story was done. “ Boys, what is your opinion 
of General Braddock? ” asked Mr. Hardy. 

The campers began to express their indigna- 
tion by strong denunciations of the unfortunate 
general. Mr. Hardy let them talk for a minute. 
Suddenly he said: “ Alec, suppose General 
Braddock had lived. What do you think ought 
to have been done to him? ” 

“ I think he ought to have been shot,” replied 
Alec. “ He should have listened to George 
Washington and not thrown away the lives of 
his men.” 


100 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ They don’t shoot officers for making blun- 
ders of that sort,” replied Mr. Hardy. 

“ Well then, he ought to have been court- 
martialed,” replied Alec, “ and driven out of the 
army.” 

“ That ’s your opinion, is it ? ” asked Mr. 
Hardy, and something in his voice made every- 
one look at him expectantly. 

“ Yes, sir,” said Alec firmly. 

“ Well, Alec,” continued Mr. Hardy, “ sup- 
pose General Braddock, instead of leading his 
men so foolishly into the forest, had endangered 
them by taking them out in canoes in rough 
water, particularly after he had been told to 
stay close to shore. What ought to be done 
to a person in authority who does a thing like 
that? ” 

Alec, who had not foreseen what was coming, 
hung his head with shame. He did not answer. 

“ Come, Alec,” urged Mr. Hardy, “ what 
ought to be done to him ? ” 

“ He ought to be put out of camp,” Alec 
replied. Then he showed what a good boy he 
really was at heart by adding, “ Mr. Hardy, I 
did n’t stop to think when I did that. I see now 


THE MAN WHO KNEW IT ALL 101 


what a wrong thing it was to do. But I am not 
going to do anything more like that — ever.” 

“ I know you did n’t think,” replied Mr. 
Hardy, “ and that is why we are not going to 
put you out of camp or any other boy who makes 
a mistake. But if you had drowned Jimmy it 
wouldn’t have done any good to say you did n’t 
think. It ’s your business to think.” 

“ I will hereafter,” said Alec. 

“ Me too,” echoed everybody else, and they 
were as good as their words. Not once during 
the entire month did Mr. Hardy have occasion 
to complain of either disobedience or thought- 
lessness on the part of any of the campers. 


CHAPTER IX 


A DRILL IN FIRST AID 

R A!X was falling gently when the campers 
opened their eyes next morning, and masses 
of gray clouds hung so low in the sky that they 
seemed to be resting on the top of the ridge just 
above the camp. It bade fair to be a disagree- 
able day. 

After breakfast was eaten and the camp 
duties were finished, Mr. Hardy had the dining 
table shifted close under one side of the fly, leav- 
ing a large open space for the boys to play in. 
They were just getting out the games and the 
books they had brought in anticipation of wet 
weather, when somebody spied Teddy under a 
huge umbrella, hurrying up the path. So the 
games were postponed to await the coming of 
their young friend. 

“ The mail-carrier brought this letter for you 
this morning,” said Teddy, producing from his 
coat pocket an envelope, which he handed to 


A DRILL IN FIRST AID 


103 


Mr. Hardy. The latter slit it open, glanced 
over the enclosed note, and frowned. 

“ The supply people that I wrote to in Wil- 
liamsport for another first-aid kit,” he remarked, 
turning to Mr. Young, “ write me that they will 
be delayed a few days in filling my order, as 
they happen to be out of one or two of the 
things I wanted. I don’t like it a bit.” Then 
turning to the boys, Mr. Hardy went on: “I ’ll 
tell you what we ’ll do. Let ’s have a little prac- 
tice in first aid. That will help us forget the 
rain.” 

The boys greeted the suggestion with ap- 
proval. They stowed their books and games on 
the table at one side. Teddy, who had per- 
mission to remain, joined them. First Mr. 
Hardy talked to them about broken bones and 
explained to them the difference between a sim- 
ple fracture and a compound fracture. Taking 
a live stick, he illustrated these differences by 
cracking the stick and then by breaking it. A 
multiple fracture, he told them, was one in which 
a bone was broken in several different places. 

“ Now,” said he, taking the parts of the stick 
he had broken, “ I am going to place these parts 


104 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


together exactly as they were before I broke the 
stick.” He fitted the jagged parts together and 
the stick once more appeared round and smooth. 
“ What I have just done with this stick,” he said, 
“ is what a physician does to a bone when he sets 
it. He simply puts the pieces together just as 
they were before they were broken.” 

The speaker cut two thin slices of wood from 
a board. “ If I put one of these slices on each 
side of this broken limb and then tie the slices 
in position, I have mended the limb. The little 
pieces of board will hold the two ends of the limb 
securely together. That is what a doctor does 
with a broken bone after he has set it — he puts 
something strong and flat on each side of the 
bone and ties these supports firmly in place. 

“ A doctor has pieces of boards regularly pre- 
pared for this work. These are called splints. 
But when a person is injured and no ready- 
made splints are at hand, anything that is stiff 
and of the right shape will answer. You might 
use an umbrella as a splint for a broken leg, or 
an axe handle, though if it is possible to do so, it 
is always best to find a board several inches wide. 
The splints, however, must not be tied directly 


A DRILL IN FIRST AID 


105 


to the leg, but padding must be placed around 
the injured member so as to fill up the hollows 
and keep the splints from hurting the injured 
person.” 

Mr. Hardy went to his tent and came back 
with some strips of bandage, a part of a blanket, 
and some boards. “ Now we ’ll fix up a broken 
leg,” he said. “ Who ’ll be the victim? ” 

Roy volunteered, and in imitation of a person 
with a broken leg, fell on the floor and called for 
help. They stretched him out and Mr. Hardy 
felt of his leg and explained that the injury was 
about six inches above the ankle. It was a sim- 
ple fracture. The boys pretended to set it, sepa- 
rating the broken parts and working the bone 
into its original position. The leg was carefully 
padded and two splints cut and quickly bound 
in place. 

“ In applying splints,” said “ Doctor ” Hardy, 
“ it is very necessary that they extend beyond 
the next joint above and the next joint below 
the injury. Otherwise a movement of these 
joints will cause a movement at the point of frac- 
ture. It is very necessary to avoid movement at 
the fracture point at all times. So if you have 


106 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


occasion to treat a broken leg, don’t try to pull 
up the trousers or roll down the stocking, as I 
have done with Roy’s stocking, but take a knife 
and slit the garment lengthwise so that it can 
be laid right open.” 

Now Teddy obligingly broke his arm, and 
that was fixed up in much the same way with 
padding and splints and bandages. Then “ Doc- 
tor ” Hardy showed the campers how to knot a 
handkerchief together and use it as a sling for 
a broken arm, by suspending it around the neck. 

Next “ Doctor ” Hardy told the boys some- 
thing about the treatment for bleeding. He 
showed them where the arteries come to the sur- 
face of the body' in the throat and the sides of 
the head, inside of the biceps and at the wrist, 
in front of the thigh and just below the ankles. 
He took a bandage and showed the boys how to 
roll it. Then taking Teddy’s arm, he showed 
them how to use this bandage, unrolling it only 
as fast as it was applied, wrapping it firmly but 
not tightly, and being particular that the pres- 
sure should be uniform throughout. 

Then Mr. Hardy showed them how to tie a 
bandage around a bleeding member and twist it 


A DRILL IN FIRST AID 


107 


up tight with a stick, having first inserted some 
object like a pebble or a small block of wood 
immediately over the vein that was bleeding. 
“ A tourniquet,” said “ Doctor ” Hardy, “ is 
seldom necessary except in the case of an injured 
artery. You can tell when an artery is cut be- 
cause the blood gushes forth in little spurts every 
time the heart beats. In such a case the bleed- 
ing must be stopped promptly or the injured 
person may bleed to death. The tourniquet 
should be applied between the wound and the 
heart.” 

He laid down the little stick he had used to 
twist the bandage. “ Now who ’s going to be 
bitten by a snake? ” asked Mr. Hardy. 

For reply Lew Heinsling grabbed his ankle 
and yelled: “ He bit me right there.” 

“ We ’ll have to work fast in this case,” said 
Mr. Hardy, “ to keep the poison from reaching 
the heart. “ First of all fasten a tourniquet a 
little above the wound. Who ’ll put it on? ” 

Teddy jumped forward. All his life he had 
lived where there were poisonous snakes, and 
snake bite meant something to him. He tore off 
a strip of bandage and had it tied around the leg 


108 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


just above the ankle in no time. Then he twisted 
it tight with a stick. 

“ Good! ” said Mr. Hardy. “ Now you must 
slash the wound with a knife and suck out the 
blood.” 

Teddy opened his knife and drew the back of 
the blade quickly twice across the wound. Then 
he pretended to suck the blood and to spit it out. 

“ Excellent! ” cried Mr. Hardy. “ I could n’t 
do it better myself. But you must remember 
that it is very risky to suck the blood from a 
snake bite if you have either bad teeth or sores 
in your mouth.” 

“ Doctor ” Hardy drew from his pocket a 
small leather case that contained a hypodermic 
syringe. “ The next step,” he said, “ would be 
to inject permanganate of potash in the wound. 
Our permanganate was lost with the first-aid kit. 
This syringe is an old one that I had in my 
trunk.” Then he showed the boys how to thrust 
the needle into the flesh about the wound and 
inject the fluid. 

“ There is one thing about snake bite that I 
want to impress on all you boys,” Mr. Hardy 
went on. “ It is customary everywhere to speak 


A DRILL IN FIRST AID 


109 


of whisky as a cure for snake bite. Whisky is 
the worst thing you can take. Never forget 
that. Snake venom paralyzes the heart. So we 
want to keep it out of the heart. That ’s why 
we first put on a tourniquet and then try to suck 
the poison out of the wound. Whisky makes 
the heart beat faster and so draws the poison into 
the heart quicker than it would Otherwise get 
there. 

“ There is a use, however, for a stimulant in 
snake bite, and that is when the poison has 
reached the heart and the heart is beginning to 
stop. You can tell that by the beating of the 
pulse. If the bitten person’s pulse begins to 
fail, then give stimulants. Even then do not 
use whisky if you can help it. Aromatic spirits 
of ammonia — half a teaspoonful in a tumbler 
of water — makes a far better stimulant than 
whisky. But of course, if nothing else is to be 
obtained, use whisky.” 

“ Ouch! This hurts,” said Lew, beginning to 
tug at the tourniquet. Teddy had been so much 
in earnest that he had shut off the flow of blood 
in Lew’s leg effectually. Mr. Hardy loosened 
the bandage. 


110 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ When we apply a tourniquet,” he said, “ it 
must be loosened within an hour so the blood can 
flow a little. Otherwise grave trouble might fol- 
low. In case of a serious wound a physician 
would probably apply three bandages like this 
at intervals up the leg. Then he could loosen 
one at a time and the blood would not escape 
much, while the poison would be admitted to the 
circulation very slowly.” 

Lew removed the bandage and began to rub 
his leg. “ That ’s enough for one day,” said Mr. 
Hardy. “ We’ll have another drill soon.” 

The boys again got out their games and the 
time passed so quickly that before anyone could 
believe it noon came and A1 began to sound his 
dinner gong. But noon it was, and what was 
better still, the sun was shining. 


1 


CHAPTER X 


AN ABORIGINAL TRAIL 

rjpHAT afternoon the campers played base- 
ball. After they had grown tired of the 
game Mr. Hardy inquired: “ How would you 
like to take a look at an Indian trail, boys? ” 

“ A real Indian trail? ” inquired George Lar- 
kin incredulously. 

“ Yes, sir, a genuine yard-wide, all-wool abo- 
riginal trail, made by the Indians themselves,” 
answered Mr. Hardy with a laugh. 

“ But how could an Indian trail last for more 
than a century?” demanded George. “ You 
said they were often so faint that the only way 
they could be followed was by observing the 
marks on the trees.” 

“ That is true, George,” replied Mr. Hardy, 
“ but not all of them were as faint as this. In- 
dian paths were just like the white men’s roads 
— some of them were much traveled and some 


112 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


but seldom. The trails between points widely 
separated were not often traversed excepting by 
war parties or single messengers. These trails 
were, therefore, very slight, and these were the 
trails that the pioneers usually had to follow 
when pursuing Indians. But some of the trails 
were worn deep. In these the earth was so 
pressed down by the constant treading of feet 
— puddled, the farmers call it — that nothing 
will grow on this soil. There are two such trails 
in this neighborhood, and though the Indians 
vanished more than a century ago, those trails 
are still distinct. Nothing has ever grown in 
them.” 

“ Can we see them? ” cried several voices to- 
gether. 

“ You can see one of them very easily,” re- 
turned Mr. Hardy. “ Just gather up your bats 
and gloves and come along and we ’ll take a 
look at the one on the way to camp.” 

The ball ground was only a short distance 
north of the Robinson barn. Quite close to the 
barn ran a little stream. Mr. Hardy led the 
way across the field to this stream and then 
turned up the gully down which the stream 


AN ABORIGINAL TRAIL 


113 


flowed. During the centuries it had been run- 
ning this little brook had eaten its way deep into 
the earth, so that as the little party walked beside 
the water they were many feet below the level 
of the fields. 

Presently they came to a fence and crawled 
through the bars. Almost immediately they 
found themselves in a beautiful wooded ravine. 
The high, sloping sides were partly covered with 
trees, but the bottom of the ravine, which shortly 
expanded into a little meadow, was open and 
covered with a thick growth of grass. 

“We are now on the estate of Judge Brown,” 
Mr. Hardy told the boys. “ The house up yon- 
der,” he pointed to a beautiful house situated on 
a projection in the hillside much as their own 
camp was placed in the clearing, “ is Judge 
Brown’s summer home. When he bought this 
property it was native forest land, little different 
from the wilderness the Indians knew. Judge 
Brown has cleared the bottom-lands in front of 
his house, as you see, and thinned out the forest 
behind. This little ravine, which used to be a 
wild tangle, he has developed into its present 
beautiful appearance. But although these great 


114 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


changes have been wrought, there are two things 
here that are exactly as they were when the In- 
dians used to make their way along this little 
stream centuries ago. 

“ Do you notice how deeply worn is the path 
in which you are walking? ” The boys stooped 
and examined it. It was worn down well be- 
low the level of the rest of the soil. “ This is the 
old Indian path,” continued Mr. Hardy. “ For 
countless ages the moccasined feet of the abo- 
rigines trod this path, for this trail was part of 
one of the most frequently traveled Indian 
highways.” 

The party had now reached a spot well up the 
ravine, where the little stream, apparently ob- 
structed by the shape of the land and by native 
growths, had spread out into a beautiful little 
pool. Willows grew about it and ferns and 
great clusters of iris edged the pool. It was a 
little gem. 

“It looks very natural, doesn’t it?” asked 
Mr. Hardy. “ Yet it is wholly artificial. The 
good judge and his wife, who like nothing better 
than to come here and work among the trees and 
flowers, fashioned that pool with their own hands 


AN ABORIGINAL TRAIL 


115 


and planted there the ferns and flowers that 
seem so natural. They are very proud of this 
little pool, but I think there is nothing on their 
estate that they prize so highly as they do yonder 
rock.” 

Mr. Hardy led the way upstream to where the 
brook became narrow again and leaped across it, 
the boys at his heels. He climbed up the steep 
slope of the ravine to where a great flat rock, 
gray with moss and lichens, jutted out of the 
hillside. The campers clustered around it. In 
the center of the rock was a broad, round de- 
pression like a bowl. 

“ That,” said Mr. Hardy, pointing to the de- 
pression, “is an old Indian mortar. In this 
little ravine, sheltered from the winds and 
warmed by the sun, the Indians would stop for 
awhile on their journeys, and on this very rock 
the Indian women ground their corn to meal. 
To crush the corn they used great stone pestles, 
like the instruments you have seen druggists use 
in mixing powders.” 

“ I ’ll show you some of those pestles when 
we go down to Bucknell,” interrupted Mr. 
Young. 


116 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ When can we go? ” asked George Larkin. 

“Amy time,” rejoined Mr. Young. “To- 
morrow if you wish. How would you like 
that? ” 

“ Fine! ” shouted the boys, and so it was set- 
tled that the trip to Bucknell should be made on 
the following day. 

“ How could the Indians grind their corn here 
if they did n’t live here? ” asked Lew Heinsling. 

“ They would halt on the march long enough 
to grind a small quantity,” answered Mr. 
Hardy, “ and then I fancy they often camped 
here for awhile when they were traveling. You 
can see for yourselves what a pleasant place this 
is for a camp. You can almost see the wigwam 
down beside the brook, the smoke stealing up- 
ward from the fires, the warriors lolling about in 
the shade, and the Indian women here grinding 
their corn or preparing meals over the camp 
fires.” 

The party now proceeded on up the ravine 
and came presently to the large spring in which 
the little brook had its source. Beyond that the 
ridge rose sharply. The campers scrambled up 
through the pine trees, the needles of which 


AN ABORIGINAL TRAIL 


117 


made the footing so slippery that sometimes 
they had to go on all fours. Presently they 
came to a wood road running along the side of 
the ridge. 

“ I know what this is,” cried Lew Heinsling, 
who was seldom at fault in the woods. “ This 
is the wood road leading to camp.” 

“ Correct,” replied Mr. Hardy. 

The boys dashed off in a group toward Camp 
Brady. Mr. Hardy and Mr. Young followed at 
leisure along the moss-grown way under the 
arching trees. When they reached camp, they 
found the boys eagerly discussing the morrow’s 
trip to Lewisburg. 

“ I guess I Ve got them interested in Indians 
all right,” remarked Mr. Hardy. 

Mr. Young chuckled. “ Just listen a minute,” 
he said. The boys were talking about Bucknell 
all right, but they were talking mostly about 
Christy Mathewson and pinchhitter McCormick 
of the Giants, and Captain Doolan of the 
Philadelphias. Mr. Hardy looked a little non- 
plused. 

“ I told them that those men all learned to 
play baseball at Bucknell,” said Mr. Young. “ I 


118 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


knew that would make them want to see the old 
college. ,, He was right, for though the boys 
were much interested in dead Indians, they were 
a great deal more interested in living heroes of 
the baseball diamond. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE FIGHT WITH THE FOREST FIRE 

fjpHE trip to Bucknell was destined not to be 
taken on the following day after all. Very 
early in the morning Lew Heinsling began to 
toss about restlessly on his cot, half awake and 
half asleep. He was sufficiently conscious to 
know that something was troubling him, without 
knowing what it was. He stirred restlessly, me- 
chanically pulling his blankets closer about him, 
as though his discomfort came from cold. He 
even mumbled to himself in the plaintive fashion 
of one having an unpleasant dream. How long 
he lay thus, half awake, half asleep, Lew Heins- 
ling never knew. All he could tell was that for 
what seemed like a long time something was 
troubling him. 

Then all in an instant he was wide-awake. He 
sniffed the air. It was heavy with smoke. The 
tent was full of it. The stifling air was what had 
so distressed Lew in his sleep. The dawn had 


120 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


little more than come. The tent walls still looked 
gray, and as Lew glanced through the open door 
of his tent he could only faintly discern the out- 
lines of the trees around the camp. The sky was 
just beginning to light up with the first streaks 
of, day. Lew noted all this at a glance. 

“ I wonder why A1 is up so early,” he mut- 
tered to himself. “ It ’s nowhere near breakfast 
time. And I wonder why he made such a smoky 
fire. He ’s got plenty of dry wood in his tent.” 

Just then a puff of wind blew in. With his 
woodsman’s instinct for detail Lew noticed that 
this breeze was from the southwest. The cook’s 
tent was to the north. He thought of that in a 
second. Quickly Lew raised himself on his 
elbow. 

“ By George! I wonder if the woods — ” 

He never finished the sentence. During the 
few minutes he had been fully awake the light 
had increased rapidly. Now his tent walls stood 
out white. As he turned on his elbow Lew saw 
through the south wall of his tent a pattern of 
red and yellow that danced and flickered about 
and threw vertical shadows on the white canvas. 
At the same moment he became conscious that 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 121 


the dull, roaring sound, which he had supposed 
was the noise of the rapids at the bridge, was 
quite different from the monotone of rushing 
waters. This sound, even now growing louder, 
was punctuated by tiny explosions and a snap- 
ping and crackling. 

“Fire!” yelled Lew, leaping from his cot.* 
“ The woods are afire ! ” 

In an instant the camp was in a commotion. 

“ Dress as fast as you can,” shouted Mr. 
Hardy. 

The boys jumped into their clothes faster than 
they had ever done before. In no time they were 
dressed and out of their tents. 

“ The camp tools, Jimmy,” called Mr. Hardy. 

Jimmy ran to the hardware box. He took 
out the implements. There were three axes, four 
hatchets, two spades, and a small mattock — ten 
implements that could be used in fighting fire. 
The camp leaders each seized an axe, and run- 
ning to a near-by pine tree, cut five thick boughs 
to beat out flames. Meantime the campers se- 
lected each an implement. Now the entire fif- 
teen hastened southward through the forest to 
meet the advancing flames. 


122 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


As they did so they saw a group of farmers, 
among whom they recognized Mr. Robinson and 
Teddy, running southward along the highway 
by the river, armed with axes, hoes, and spades. 
The campers were not the only ones who had 
seen the flames. 

Between the camp and the river, it will be re- 
membered, lay one of Mr. Robinson’s fields. 
This field stretched along the river for hundreds 
of yards. It extended south of the camp fully 
a third of a mile. All this great acreage was now 
heavy with grain. The golden wheat was ripe 
and ready to cut. The straw of the wheat was 
already drying. The great field was like so 
much tinder. Should the flames get into it, 
nothing could stop them. For the wind, which 
blew from the southwest, would send the flames 
galloping through the dry grain like fire through 
a powder train. This field of wheat was the 
main crop on the Robinson farm. 

What made the situation worse was the fact 
that immediately south of the wheat was a great 
patch of scrub growth, where the timber had 
been logged off three or four years previously. 
Here a dense growth, which was really a thicket 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 123 


of young oaks, spread over many acres. The 
scrub leaves were already largely burned dry by 
the hot sun. The ground was littered a foot 
deep with branches and boughs scattered here at 
the time of the lumbering operations. These 
were now so much tinder. Should the flames get 
into this scrub-oak patch, they would not merely 
go racing through it, but the wind would cast 
ahead of them into the very heart of the wheat 
field a stream of blazing brands. 

Above this patch of scrub the forest continued 
along the side of the ridge just as it stretched 
above the wheat field. The southwest wind, now 
rapidly freshening, came quartering from the 
river up the hillside, blowing the flames diago- 
nally along the ridge. This tended to keep them 
away from the scrub and the wheat. But every 
few seconds a burning branch would snap and 
a blazing ember come tumbling down the hill, 
spreading the fire with it. Slowly but surely the 
flames were eating their way down the ridge 
toward the danger point below. Even now they 
were perilously near the edge of the scrub 
growth. 

All these things Mr. Hardy noticed as he ran 


124 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


at the head of his fire brigade through the forest. 
He knew that the fire fighters would have to do 
two things: first, keep the flames from the scrub 
and the grain ; second, stop their advance 
through the forest. As he neared the front of 
the fire Mr. Hardy could see through the smoke 
that the farmers, who had been able to make 
great speed because they were on an open high- 
way, had beaten his own party in the race, and 
were now stretching themselves along the edge 
of the forest and trying to drive the flames back 
from the scrub growth. So Mr. Hardy deter- 
mined to line his boys up directly in the path of 
the fire and stop its advance through the forest. 

Fortune was with him here. Not two hundred 
yards from the line of the flames he came upon a 
little tract running straight up and down the 
hill that had been burned over in the spring. 
This little strip made an irregular black lane 
hardly more than twenty-five feet wide. If the 
flames could be stopped anywhere, it was here. 
The saplings and the younger growths, killed 
by the fire of the spring, stood dead and dry, 
ready to spread the flames. But the deadly 
underbrush, through which a forest fire usually 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 125 


travels, had all been consumed, and it was as yet 
too early for the autumn leaves to cover the 
space with their inflammable carpet. 

Mr. Hardy rushed his boys to the south edge 
of this fire lane. The strongest were given the 
axes and hatchets to cut away the dead growths. 
As fast as these were chopped the other boys 
dragged them well beyond the northern edge of 
the burned zone. 

A1 and Mr. Young took pine boughs, and ad- 
vancing to the very edge of the flames, began to 
beat them out in an effort to hold them in check 
while the fire lane was making. It was terrible 
work. The smoke was stifling. The heat from the 
flames almost overpowered them. They rushed 
in and beat at the fire until almost exhausted, 
then retreated a few paces and recruited their 
strength. By the time they got back, the places 
they had beaten out would be flaming again. 

“ If I had twenty men I ’d fix you, dang you! ” 
muttered Al, as he rained blows on the flames. 

He had fought many a forest fire. He and 
Mr. Young battled their way along the line of 
flames, delaying them here a little and there a 
little, but nowhere stopping them. 


126 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Meantime the axe brigade was accomplishing 
wonders. Axes and hatchets rose and fell in a 
hail of blows. The dead saplings crashed to 
earth unceasingly. Now was evident the wisdom 
of Mr. Hardy in insisting, as he had done ever 
since camp was organized, that every tool be 
kept sharp. One blow of an axe now did the 
work of two blows of a dull axe. The fire lane 
began to widen rapidly. For many yards now 
along this lane the boys had cleared away the 
trees over a space of five or six feet. At the 
edge of the forest, next to the wheat field, 
they had exerted their best efforts. Here the 
fire lane was already ten feet wide. If only 
the flames could be held back long enough, 
Mr. Hardy was sure they would be stopped 
here. 

But flesh and blood cannot work like a ma- 
chine. The boys, not inured to labor, were be- 
ginning to falter under the strain. Mr. Hardy 
saw this. Quickly he shifted his forces, giving 
the axes to the smaller boys, while the larger ones 
dragged away the brush. What they lacked in 
strength the new axemen made up in freshness. 
While these were putting all their muscle into 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 127 


the chopping, the bigger boys were regaining 
their strength in the easier task. 

Taking Henry Harper with him, Mr. Hardy 
now ran to the relief of A1 and Mr. Young. He 
was none too soon. The heat and the smoke 
and their own violent exertions had almost ex- 
hausted these two fire fighters. They could 
hardly stand on their feet, yet with the dogged 
courage of heroes they were sticking to their 
task. Henry and Mr. Hardy took their places 
and A1 and Mr. Young joined the axe brigade. 

“ Have the boys spell one another,” shouted 
Mr. Hardy to Mr. Young as the latter dis- 
appeared in the smoke. 

It was impossible to see more than a few 
yards, but the glare of the flames was visible 
along the entire line of the fire. Mr. Hardy 
looked quickly about him. He saw that the 
flames, retarded in the center by the efforts of 
A1 and Mr. Young, now stretched across the 
strip of forest in an irregular crescent. He 
noted with alarm that the lower horn of this 
crescent had crept down dangerously close to 
the edge of the forest. A blazing brand, shot 
sharply downhill, would land in the wheat field. 


128 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ This way! ” yelled Mr. Hardy, dashing for 
the danger point. 

Henry followed. Fiercely they attacked the 
fiery tip of the crescent. They beat out the end 
of the flames and began to work their way up the 
hill. This new point of attack held a great ad- 
vantage. A1 and Mr. Young, attacking the 
center of the line, had been wholly buried in 
smoke. Here the smoke was mostly on one 
side. 

“ Get to windward! ” yelled Mr. Hardy. 

The two fire fighters attacked the flames from 
behind. They could beat out the fire here as 
well as when they stood in front of the flames. 
The wind blew much of the smoke away from 
them. Still the air was stifling and the heat 
sickening. But their position was so much better 
than Al’s and Mr. Young’s had been that they 
kept their strength better. Little by little this 
flank attack succeeded. Foot by foot they sub- 
dued the flames, driving them back toward the 
heart of the forest. Sometimes a little brand 
flew ahead and started a blaze in advance of the 
main line of the fire. They dashed at it and 
beat out the flames with vigorous blows. One 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 129 


yard, five yards, ten yards, twenty yards, they 
killed off the fire. 

“ If we had our whole force here,” panted Mr. 
Hardy between blows, “ we could stop the fire 
before it reaches the burned place. Bring them 
all here with pine boughs.” 

Henry darted away in the direction of the fire 
lane. 

“We ’re going to stop it,” muttered Mr. 
Hardy to himself as he picked up Henry’s pine 
bough, and adding it to his own, again attacked 
the flames. 

He had hardly spoken when he heard a mighty 
shouting for help from behind him. One glance 
told him what was the trouble. Through the 
thick smoke he saw the glare of the flames well 
down the slope. The fire was almost in the 
scrub. The farmers had not been able to hold it. 

“Henry, Henry!” shouted Mr. Hardy. 

“ Yes,” came back the answer through the 
smoke. 

“ Bring all the boys as fast as you can,” 
shouted Mr. Hardy. “ Come down to the scrub 
where the farmers are. Hurry! ” 

Then Mr. Hardy dashed through the woods 


130 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


to the new point of danger. What he saw when 
he got there almost made his heart stop beating. 
At one point the flames had crept down to 
within a few feet of the scrub. Here a clump of 
pines furnished such fat food for the flames that 
the farmers had been utterly unable to beat the 
fire back. The heat was terrific. The flames 
scorched everything for yards around. Already 
the scrub was beginning to smolder. The fire 
fighters were in bad shape. Their faces were 
black. Their eyebrows were burned away. Their 
clothes were smoking. Their hands were burned 
and blistered. Yet they were fighting desper- 
ately. 

Mr. Hardy leaped to the very heart of the 
advancing flames and beat right and left with 
terrific blows. This reenforcement encouraged 
the farmers. With superhuman strength they 
increased their efforts. They stood shoulder to 
shoulder in the path of the flames, never giving 
an inch. Their clothes began to burn. They 
beat out the fires and returned to the attack. 
Just when it seemed that flesh and blood could 
endure no longer, the flames lessened. They had 
burned past the pine. The other wood made 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 131 


poorer fuel. The farmers saw their advantage. 
They pressed the flames still closer. Inch by 
inch they drove them back. Just then Henry 
was heard hallooing in the forest. 

“ This way! This way! ” shouted Mr. Hardy. 

A minute later Henry came dashing through 
the smoke with the campers. They were not an 
instant too soon. While the farmers had been 
facing the forest, a new danger had sprung up 
behind them. The scorching heat had set fire to 
a little patch of the scrub. Henry noted it as he 
advanced. 

“ The scrub! ” he cried. 

Mr. Hardy turned. He saw the danger at a 
glance. 

“ To the scrub! ” he shouted. “ We can hold 
the fire here! ” 

The campers hurled themselves in a body on 
the blazing patch of scrub and fairly smothered 
the new fire under a torrent of blows. Then 
grabbing up some hoes the farmers had dropped, 
they dug desperately into the ground, covering 
the still smoldering embers with earth. In a few 
minutes the fire in the scrub was entirely ex- 
tinguished. It was a close call. 


132 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Now all the fire fighters advanced together 
on the flames and were able to subdue them 
rapidly. They worked up the hill, extinguishing 
the fire as they went. Presently the blaze had 
been driven upward to a strip already burned 
over. There was nothing here for the flames to 
feed on. Soon they died out entirely. 

Meantime the upper end of the fire had ad- 
vanced along the ridge. The wide fire lane at 
the lower end of the forest had entirely stopped 
the flames there. The wind had shifted a little 
also. Now it was blowing almost straight up the 
ridge instead of diagonally along its face. So 
the flames were driven uphill. At the crest was 
an open, stony field that would stop them. But 
the danger was by no means over. Blazing 
embers, flung off to the side, could still spread 
the flames beyond the fire lane, which, toward 
the top of the ridge, was very narrow. Here the 
campers had been able to clear a strip less than 
four feet wide. But the volume of flame was 
now so much diminished that the combined fire- 
fighting forces were more than strong enough 
to win the fight. 

The farmers pressed the battle from the south 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 133 


side. A1 and Mr. Young, who had stuck to- 
gether through all the fight, attacked the flames 
from the rear. The stony field was depended 
upon to stop the advance of the fire at the top 
of the ridge. Mr. Hardy flung his brigade of 
campers back on the north edge of the fire, 
where they resumed their work of clearing away 
the dead saplings and widening the fire lane. 
Teddy joined the campers in this work, and he 
and Lew were soon laboring side by side, the 
one chopping while the other dragged away the 
brush and grubbed up the earth between loads. 
Teddy had just sunk his hoe into the mold when, 
glancing at Lew, who was wielding his axe a 
dozen feet uphill, he saw a copperhead wriggle 
out of the brush before the advancing flames and 
glide directly toward his companion. 

“ Look out! ” shouted Teddy, leaping toward 
Lew. 

The latter was working with his back toward 
Teddy. At the cry he stepped back from the 
tree he was chopping, and his foot landed 
squarely on the tail of the passing serpent. 
Teddy struck at the snake, but before his blow 
could land, the copperhead had turned and 


134 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


darted a lightning thrust at the offending foot. 
Teddy’s hoe cut the snake in half, but not before 
the deadly fangs had reached their mark. Lew 
instantly grasped his leg and gripped it tight 
just above the ankle. 

“ Help! ” yelled Teddy. “ Get Mr. Hardy, 
quick! ” 

Without a second’s hesitation he snatched out 
his handkerchief and tied it about Lew’s leg, 
three inches above the ankle. Teddy broke off a 
piece of a limb, and in an instant had twisted the 
handkerchief deep into the flesh of the leg. 

“ Hold it ! ” he said to Lew. 

Lew kept the stick from untwisting. Teddy 
dug into his pocket and drew forth his knife. 
He cut away the stocking and twice ripped his 
blade across the puncture points. Blood gushed 
out. Kneeling, Teddy applied his lips to the 
wound and spat out a mouthful of blood. He 
did this time and again. 

Meantime the alarm spread quickly. Mr. 
Hardy came running up. “ Splendid work, 
Teddy!” he said. “Now for some perman- 
ganate — ” Then he remembered that the first- 
aid kit was lost. He stopped dead. 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 135 


By this time all the campers had collected 
about Lew, leaving the farmers to finish the 
fight. Lew began to feel sick. He lay back on 
the ground. He grew very white. Lem Has- 
kins looked on as though stunned. His dis- 
obedience had caused the loss of the first-aid kit. 
Lew looked as though he were dying. Tears 
stole from Lem’s eyes. His features began to 
work convulsively. 

“ Roy,” said Mr. Hardy, turning to that in- 
dividual, “ run to the farmhouse and get a tum- 
bler of household ammonia and a tumbler of 
whisky or hard cider. Go as quick as you can.” 

“ Let me go,” begged Lem. “ I can run 
faster than Roy.” 

“ No, Lem,” replied Mr. Hardy, “ I know 
how you feel, but we can’t afford to make any 
mistakes. Roy will do exactly what I tell him 
and do it right.” 

Lem stepped back and buried his face in his 
hands. “ If he dies,” he moaned, “ it is my fault.” 

And it looked for a time as though Lew might 
die. He felt weaker and sicker every minute. 
Mr. Hardy encouraged him. 

“ It was not a large snake,” he said, looking 


4 * 


136 IN CAMP AT PORT BRADY 


at the dead reptile, “ and I don’t believe you 
were badly bitten.” 

But Mr. Hardy’s face belied his words. He 
sat down beside Lew and felt his pulse. Then he 
looked anxiously through the forest in the direc- 
tion Roy had taken. 

To the farmhouse and back it was more than 
a mile. The return trip was uphill. Mr. Hardy 
knew it would probably be a quarter of an hour 
before Roy could get back. He applied two 
more tourniquets farther up the leg and waited. 

Ten minutes had hardly passed before a shout 
was heard. It was Roy. Instead of climbing 
the hill at the camp and returning through the 
forest as he had gone, Roy was speeding along 
the river road, where he could make better time. 

“ There ’s a boy who uses his head,” com- 
mented Mr. Hardy when he saw what Roy was 
doing. 

Then turning to Charley Russell and Jimmy 
Donnelly, Mr. Hardy said: “ Cut down through 
the wheat field and get the stuff.” 

The boys tore down the slope. The heavy 
grain entangled their feet somewhat, but they 
trod down a path that made their return easy. 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 137 


Each took a bottle from Roy and dashed up the 
hill. Roy panted after them, stumbling and 
falling. When he reached the campers, he 
dropped to the ground in utter collapse. The 
hard run after the strain of the fight with the 
fire was more than he could stand. The boys 
looked alarmed. 

“ He ’s all right,” said Mr. Hardy. “ He ’s 
merely fagged out.” 

Meantime he was burning out the wound on 
Lew’s leg with the strong ammonia from one of 
the bottles. After a considerable period he 
loosened the tourniquet Teddy had made. At 
intervals he loosened the others slightly and then 
took Lew’s wrist again. The boys stood by with 
white faces. Lem Haskins was breathless. Lew 
felt sicker than before. Mr. Hardy gave him a 
little drink from the other bottle. Then he sat 
with his hand on Lew’s pulse. 

“ Well, boys,” he said after a time, “ I guess 
you needn’t worry any longer. Lew will pull 
through all right. Teddy’s prompt action has 
saved his life. And I think Lew will hardly even 
be sick. Just now he feels bad. That will pass 
away in a few hours.” 


138 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Then turning to Roy, Mr. Hardy stuck the 
open ammonia bottle under his nose. 

“ It ’s time you got up,” he said. 

Roy got up with comical suddenness. 
The group of white-faced boys burst into a 
laugh. 

“ Gee! ” said Roy with a sneeze and a snort, 
“ if that ’s the stuff you gave Lew, I don’t won- 
der he ’s all right. That would raise a dead 
man.” 

By this time the fire was practically out. The 
farmers were left to end it and the boys trooped 
back to camp. Mr. Hardy and Mr. Young 
made a chair with their arms and carried Lew. 
They put him to bed at once. In a day or two 
he was as good as ever. From this time forward 
Lew and Teddy were like brothers. 

Now that the campers had time to take a look 
at one another they realized what a hard-looking 
crew they were. They were smoky and grimy. 
Their clothes were torn and burned. Their eye- 
lids were singed. Many of them had painful 
burns on their hands. They were just getting 
cleaned up, and A1 was getting his fires under 
way to cook the long delayed and now much 


FIGHT WITH FOREST FIRE 139 


needed breakfast, when a messenger was seen 
approaching from the farmhouse. Mrs. Robin- 
son wanted the boys to eat breakfast with her. 
A1 stayed with Lew while the boys went to the 
Robinson home. 

The campers were stowing away Mrs. Robin- 
son’s delicious hot cakes and drinking the de- 
licious milk when in came Mr. Robinson. He 
stopped in surprise when he saw what a huge 
family he had. 

“ Boys,” he said, his voice tremulous with emo- 
tion, “ I don’t know how I am ever going to 
thank you for what you have done for me this 
day. But you are welcome to anything you 
want on this farm. The camp ground is yours 
as long as you want to come here.” 

He paused a moment, then went on : “ I knew 
when Mr. Hardy asked if he might bring you, 
that if you were anything like him, you ’d be a 
fine lot of boys. You don’t know what a fine 
man Mr. Hardy is — ” 

“Yes we do,” interrupted Roy. 

“ No you don’t,” retorted Teddy. “ Mr. 
Hardy saved me from — ” 

“ Children should be seen and not heard,” said 


140 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Mr. Hardy with a smile as he gently clapped his 
hand over Teddy’s mouth. 

Teddy subsided, but mentally reserved the 
privilege of telling what he knew when he got a 
better chance. 


CHAPTER XII 


LEM TURNS OYER A NEW LEAF 

rpHE next few days were very quiet ones at 
Camp Brady. The campers came back 
from Mrs. Robinson’s hospitable breakfast table 
no longer hungry, but extremely sore and tired. 
And for a time both the soreness and the weari- 
ness increased. Al, the cook, appeared to mind 
the terrible labors of the morning no more than 
as though he had been engaged in some pleasant 
pastime. He went right on with his work as 
though nothing had happened, and his great 
voice could be heard booming out over the valley 
as he repeated aloud a bit of musical doggerel he 
had learned in the lumber camps : 

“ We’ve lumbered here, we’ve lumbered there, 

By George! We’ve lumbered everywhere.” 

In fact it was Al’s training in the lumber 
camps that left him now the least affected mem- 
ber of the party. For years and years he had 


142 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


swung a heavy axe the winter through. His 
great muscles, hard as whipcord and accustomed 
to toiling for hours at a time, had felt no slightest 
fatigue from his morning’s efforts. It was the 
smoke and the heat that had weakened him. 
Once away from these, his hardy frame revived 
under the fresh air, like a drooping lily in cold 
water. So now he was the freshest and most 
cheerful person about the camp. 

But it was far different with the others. The 
camp leaders, strong though they were, had not 
had the inuring years of labor that made Al’s 
muscles immune to fatigue. They were thor- 
oughly tired. Moreover, each of them had sus- 
tained painful burns on the hands in their close 
battle with the flames. 

As for the boys, they were completely worn 
out. Every one of them had worked to the limit 
of his physical capacity. Already their muscles 
were beginning to feel stiff and sore. The heat 
and the smoke had affected their young bodies 
much more than they had affected the older 
members of the party. There was not a boy 
among them whose hands were not extremely 
sore. Their palms were full of great blisters 


LEM TURNS OVER A l^EW LEAF 143 


from the axes, and their hands and wrists were 
torn and scratched from their struggles with the 
brush. Henry, who had been in closer contact 
with the flames than any of the other boys, had 
sustained several burns. Altogether the camp- 
ers were physically a wretched crew. Mr. Hardy 
got some oil and salve and bandages and eased 
the smarts as well as he could. 

But if the campers were physically wretched, 
their mental condition was far different. They 
had not yet recovered from the thrill and excite- 
ment of their fierce battle. They had had an 
adventure, not a make-believe adventure, but as 
Mr. Hardy might have expressed it, “ a genuine, 
yard -wide, all-wool adventure.” They had 
fought a forest fire. They had defended their 
camp from flames. And what was best of all, 
they had repaid their benefactors by saving the 
wheat from destruction. It is not often that 
a boy has an opportunity to take part in an 
adventure so desperate as the fight with the 
forest fire had been. Now they lay on the turf in 
the grateful shade of a tree and talked it over 
excitedly. Vividly they recalled the fierce 
combat. 


144 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“Gee!” said Johnnie Lee. “I’ll bet the 
flames were a hundred feet high! ” 

“ I ’ll bet it was hotter than Nebuchadnezzar’s 
furnace,” cried Willie Brown, who had recently 
been much impressed by a Sunday-school lesson 
concerning the fiery trial of Daniel’s three 
friends. 

Henry Harper, who had faced the flames at 
closer range than the others, closed his eyes with 
a shudder. “ What a terrible thing fire is ! ” he 
muttered. 

“ Gee whiz! You ought to have seen Teddy 
hit that snake!” said Robert Martin, who was 
the only one of the fire fighters that had actually 
witnessed the tragedy. 

“ How did he do it? ” asked the boys with 
eagerness. 

Robert told in detail how Teddy had jumped 
to the aid of his friend when the serpent came 
wriggling out of the brush, and how he had 
almost succeeded in killing the copperhead be- 
fore it could strike. “ I never saw anyone so 
quick,” said Robert. “ Teddy jumped ten feet 
and hit the snake before you could wink an eye. 
And the way he went after Lew’s leg was even 


LEM TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF 145 


quicker. He had his necktie around it before I 
knew Lew was bitten.” 

“ I wonder how Lew ’s feeling,” said Jimmy 
Donnelly, who was always thoughtful of others. 
“ Let ’s go see.” 

Thereupon the entire group got up and 
tramped over to Lew’s tent, all excepting Lem 
Haskins. Lem watched the other boys go 
trooping away, stood irresolute for a moment, 
and then headed straight for Mr. Hardy’s tent. 
He found the camp leader alone. 

Lem entered the tent with downcast counte- 
nance. The hour of agony he had experienced 
as he stood helplessly watching Lew as the latter 
lay white and still in the forest had affected him 
powerfully. The anguish of that hour had been 
like the fire that burns away the dross in the re- 
fining of precious metals. The Lem who now 
entered Mr. Hardy ? s tent was very different 
from the Lem who had lost the first-aid kit. He 
hung his head now, not from sullenness, but 
from repentance. 

“ Mr. Hardy,” he faltered, “ you don’t think 
Lew will die, do you ? ” 

“ No,” replied Mr. Hardy, “ but he had a 


146 IN CAMP AT FORT BIlADT ' 

very narrow escape. If Teddy had n’t been so 
prompt, Lew might be dead already.” 

Lem was silent for a time. “ Mr. Hardy,” 
he said, “ it was all my fault. Is n’t there some- 
thing I can do to make up for it? ” 

“ I am very glad to hear you talk this way, 
Lem,” returned Mr. Hardy. “ It shows you 
have the right spirit after all. I think there are 
a good many things you can do to make it right. 
In the first place there are things you can do 
for Lew himself — ” 

“ Yes, yes,” interrupted Lem. “Let me do 
his camp duties.” 

Lew was then a member of the squad that 
chopped the camp wood, and Lem was now pro- 
posing to take Lew’s share of that duty upon his 
own hands — literally upon his hands, too ; and 
those hands were as sore and badly blistered as 
anybody’s, for Lem had done his full duty at the 
forest fire. Nothing could be more significant of 
the change in him than his desire to do this 
work, which must inevitably be hard and painful. 

“ Then there are other things you can do,” 
went on Mr. Hardy, “ which do not directly con- 
cern Lew, but which will show whether or not 


LEM TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF 147 


you really mean it when you say you want to 
act differently.” 

“ Tell me what they are and I will do them,” 
said Lem. 

“ I am thinking about your duty to people in 
general,” said Mr. Hardy. “ You have seen 
how your carelessness in losing the medicine kit 
has affected the whole company of us. You are 
not old enough yet to realize it, but the same 
thing is true of almost everything you do — in 
some way it affects other people. The effect of 
your own actions on yourself is not so impor- 
tant. If you had been bitten by the snake and 
had died in consequence, you would simply have 
suffered from your own act. Some people 
would have said you deserved it. But when 
someone else suffers because of what you do, you 
see how very wrong that is.” 

“ I never realized before,” replied Lem in a 
low voice, “ that my actions affected anybody 
else.” 

“ They do,” continued Mr. Hardy. “ Every 
act affects somebody else. I told you about the 
old pioneers who settled this valley. If they 
hadn’t come here and fought the Indians and 


148 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


overcome the wilderness and faced starvation 
and hardships, you could not be here camping 
to-day, because this region would not be habit- 
able. You are enjoying yourself now because of 
the deeds of brave men and women who died 
many years before you were born. Never for- 
get that, Lem. Remember that the things you 
do will affect those who are to come after you. 
You do not know how they will affect them and 
I cannot tell you. But if you are mean and 
careless and unkind, your acts are going to hurt 
somebody. If you are brave and cheerful and 
kind, what you do will help somebody. Even a 
pleasant smile helps along. And there is noth- 
ing in the world that does so much good to other 
people as to see a man who is doing his work — 
his plain, everyday duty, like our squad work, 
for instance — in a brave, cheerful, happy way. 
Don’t forget it, Lem. 5, 

Mr. Hardy held out his hand and Lem 
grasped it eagerly and squeezed it firmly. “ I 
never shall,” he replied. “ Before we leave this 
camp I am going to be like you said Roy Mercer 
was — * a boy who will do just what he is told to 
do and do it right.’ ” 


LEM TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF 149 

And Lem was as good as his word. From 
that hour he was a changed boy. No one, watch- 
ing him vigorously wielding an axe in Lew’s 
place, would have dreamed that his hands were 
paining him. No one, seeing the bright-faced 
lad who ministered so faithfully to Lew, and who 
cheerfully went about the camp looking for 
opportunities to be of service, would have recog- 
nized in him the shiftless, lazy, sullen Lem Has- 
kins of old. He was indeed a changed boy. 

In fact Lem was quite the most active person 
about camp, for the rest of the boys took it as 
easy as circumstances permitted. Their sore 
hands and arms and shoulders made baseball 
quite out of the question. The practice in pad- 
dling was temporarily suspended for the same 
reason. The boys took their daily dip in the 
river, however; but Mr. Hardy made them do 
this for hygienic reasons. A few of them swam 
about, but mostly they contented themselves 
with disporting in the shallow water of the cove. 

Willie Brown was a shining exception. 
Nothing about the camp was so wonderful as 
Willie’s enthusiasm for swimming and his deter- 
mination to succeed. Now that he had gotten 


150 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


the belief that he could swim if he would, Willie 
worked like a Trojan. The other boys occupied 
their time in diving and splashing about and 
playing games. But Willie continued as he had 
begun, a striver after perfection. While the 
others were noisily playing, Willie could be seen 
swimming steadily up and down the shore, 
resting for awhile and then returning and prac- 
ticing assiduously each new stroke and move- 
ment shown him, until he could do it' perfectly. 
Unknown to the campers, and almost unknown 
to himself, Willie was preparing a great surprise 
for them. 

During these days Mr. Hardy continued his 
lessons in first aid. Also he and Mr. Young 
taught the boys how to rescue a drowning per- 
son. They showed how to approach and how 
to break death grips. Mr. Young was the 
drowning man and Mr. Hardy rescued him. 

Mr. Young clutched both of Mr. Hardy’s 
wrists. To break this death grip Mr. Hardy 
raised his arms high in the air, forcing both their 
bodies low into the water. Then he suddenly 
turned his arms down against Mr. Young’s 
thumbs and broke the hold easily. 


LEM TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF 151 


Next Mr. Young got a grip around Mr. 
Hardy’s neck. Mr. Hardy thrust his right hand 
into Mr. Young’s face, deftly covering Mr. 
Young’s mouth and gripping his nostrils with 
the one hand. Then taking a deep breath, he 
shot his knees into Mr. Young’s stomach, but 
carefully held fast to his nose and mouth. Both 
men went under water during this struggle, but 
the grip was broken. They came up, choking 
and laughing. 

Then Mr. Young threw his arms around Mr. 
Hardy’s neck from behind. A man so grasped 
by a drowning person would shortly be stran- 
gled. Hence this grip must be broken immedi- 
ately. Mr. Hardy grasped the encircling arms 
by the wrists and pulled them as far away from 
his neck as he could. Then turning his head to 
one side, he was able to slip down through the 
encircling arms. It was a tight squeeze, but he 
got through and disappeared for an instant. 

“ Another way to break this grip, boys,” he 
said when he came up, “ is to hold the arms away 
from your neck and jerk your head back as hard 
as you can, banging the nose of the person grab- 
bing you. That will always release the grip. 


152 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


I didn’t do it to Mr. Young because I didn’t 
want to spoil his looks.” , 

Now the boys were shown how to tow a person 
safely by swimming on the back and drawing 
the rescued one along by the chin or shoul- 
ders, and also by thrusting the left arm under 
the drowning man’s left arm and around his 
chest and clutching his right arm, while swim- 
ming with one’s own right arm free. 

Finally the camp leaders showed the boys how 
to resuscitate one who had been in the water, by 
laying him on his belly on a rolled-up coat or 
stone and pressing on the small of his back to 
expel the water from his stomach. 

“ Before you do this,” explained Mr. Hardy, 
“ it is necessary to have the rescued man’s mouth 
open, and if possible the tongue out, so that the 
water may run out freely. The mouth can be 
pried open and held with a stick or cork pressed 
between the teeth. The tongue can be pulled 
forward easily when gripped with a handker- 
chief.” 

Mr. Young was, of course, still acting the part 
of the drowning man. Mr. Hardy pulled his 
tongue forward gently. Then he flopped him 


LEM TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF 153 

over on his back after he had gone through the 
motion of expelling the water from his stomach, 
and now began working his arms up and down 
at regular intervals, raising them straight from 
the body over the head and then down again 
and squeezing in the abdomen. This was to 
start the lungs. 

The boys readily grasped the principles in- 
volved, and every day thereafter the swimming 
hole was the scene of many rescues. 

“ You see, boys,” said Mr. Young, “ it is the 
man who knows how to do a thing who is able 
to do it when the critical moment comes. You 
have had a very striking illustration of that in 
the case of Teddy and Lew. Teddy saved 
Lew’s life just as easy as could be. But if he 
had n’t known how, he would have had to stand 
helplessly by and watch his friend die. Don’t 
forget that. The great thing in this life is to 
be prepared. You know that is the motto of 
the Boy Scouts. The man who is prepared is 
the man who is equal to the emergency.” 

During the next few days, before the boys re- 
gained their normal activity, Mr. Young took 
them on some pleasant strolls along the wood 


154 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


road and on the highway by the river. He 
pointed out to them many interesting things 
about the trees and the flowers and the birds and 
the smaller animals, which were numerous about 
camp. 


CHAPTER XIII 


AL JORDAN SPEARS A CARP 

fjpHE campers had left the water after the 
swimming hour one afternoon and started 
toward the camp, when Lew Heinsling turned 
around to wave his hand to Teddy, who had 
joined them in the swim and who was now 
trudging up the road toward home. As Lew 
faced about he noticed a great ripple on the 
river where a big fish had evidently broken the 
surface. Some of the campers had already 
fished a little, but with indifferent success. This 
disturbance in the water indicated a much larger 
fish than any the campers had yet seen, and 
Lew stood looking at it eagerly and regretfully. 
He was fond of fishing. As he looked there 
was a second swirl in the water a short distance 
upstream. More swirls broke the water, one 
behind the other, until it appeared as though a 
company of big fish were coming downstream in 
Indian file. 


156 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ Look at the river,” Lew called to Teddy. 

Of course everybody else looked too. More 
and more swirls appeared, but all the time far- 
ther downstream. Something was evidently 
coming down with the current. 

“ I know what they are,” called Teddy. 
“ They are a lot of big carp. You can’t catch 
them, though. They won’t bite.” 

The boys went on up to camp. Everybody 
was talking fish. The cook’s assistants gathered 
in the cooking tent and began to pare potatoes. 

“Did you see that big one jump?” asked 
Roy. “ Was n’t he a whopper? ” 

“ I ’ll bet he was three feet long,” said Willie 
Brown, his eyes bulging. 

“ There must have been forty of them,” de- 
clared Lem Haskins. 

“ Did you ever see a carp? ” Roy asked Lem. 
“ I don’t believe there are any around Central 
City.” 

Not one of the three had ever seen a carp and 
they appealed to the cook. 

“ Al, what ’s a carp like? ” Roy asked. 

“ It ’s a great big fish with sort of reddish- 
yellow scales,” replied Al, “ and a funny little 


AL JORDAN SPEARS A CARP 157 


mouth like a sucker’s. Some people say they 
hain’t good to eat, but that ’s ’cause they don’t 
know what they ’re talkin’ about. If you know 
how to cook ’em, they ’re mighty good eatin’.” 

“ Teddy said you could n’t catch them,” de- 
clared Roy. “ He says they won’t bite.” 

“You can ketch ’em all right,” replied Al, 
“ but not with a hook and line. You have to 
gig them fish.” 

“ What ’s that? ” asked Willie. 

“ Never see a fish gigged? ” asked Al in sur- 
prise. “ Well, now, I reckon I ’ll have to show 
you.” 

The boys continued their questions, but Al 
would tell them nothing more. 

The minute supper was over and his work 
was done he went stumping down the hillside 
and turned south along the river road. He was 
heading for the cabin of the fisherman that Mr. 
Hardy had visited the day Alec and Jimmy up- 
set the canoe. After a time he came stumping 
back, bearing in one hand what looked like an 
iron basket. In the other he carried a short, 
stout mast with a still shorter yard. He had 
also a five-pronged spear or “ gig ” on a long, 


158 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


slender pole. He laid them down in one of the 
boats, then stumped up to camp, and began to 
cut some pitchy knots from a fat pine. When 
he had a box filled with the pine, he shouldered 
it and went down to the boat. AJ1 the camp 
trailed after him. 

A1 now set up the mast in one of the boats, 
stepping it firmly in some cleats he had nailed 
to the bottom for that purpose, and holding it 
upright with wire guys running from the top of 
the mast to the sides of the boat. He set the arm 
in position, pointing it straight out over the 
prow of the boat. Then he hooked the iron 
basket on the yardarm and filled it with pine- 
knots. From his pocket he took a file and began 
to sharpen the points of the spear. 

“ When it gets dark,” he said, “ I ’m goin’ 
out and ketch one of them carp.” 

“ Can I go along? ” cried a dozen voices. 

“ Lord bless you! ” exclaimed Al. “ How ’d 
we ever get twelve boys in a rowboat — and if 
we had ’em there how ’d we ever get any fish? ” 

The boys looked disappointed. 

“ Tell you what, boys,” Al went on, noticing 
the looks of disappointment. “ You come along 


AL JORDAN SPEARS A CARP 159 


the road and I ’ll stick close to the shore, and if 
we git any fish you can see how it ’s done.” 

A shout of satisfaction went up. 

“ Could just one boy go if he ’d be quiet? ” 
asked Lem. 

“ Well, now, I don’t know,” replied A1 war- 
ily. “ That depends.” 

“ If you can take one boy, Al,” pleaded Lem, 
“ won’t you please take Lew. He ’s missed half 
the fun the last few days.” 

This generous idea appealed to the other boys. 

“ Yes, take Lew! ” they chorused. 

So it was arranged that Lew was to be taken. 
Mr. Hardy was to go along to row the boat. 
Mr. Young was to accompany the boys on the 
bank to watch the fun. 

Night soon came. When Al thought it suffi- 
ciently dark, he gave the signal and the party 
started. Each boy had gotten his palouser and 
an extra candle. 

Al got into the boat and applied a match to 
the fuel in the iron basket. He stood in the 
bow. Mr. Hardy took the oars, facing forward 
so he could see where to row. Lew sat on a 
seat between them. 


160 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“All right !” sang out Al, and Mr. Hardy 
shoved the boat out into the stream. The big 
lumberman picked up his spear and held the 
boat motionless with it for a moment while he 
glanced about. As he looked up toward the 
group on the high bank he presented a very 
striking appearance. The fire, now flaming 
fiercely, lighted up his rugged visage unevenly, 
making it seem even fiercer than usual. His 
huge form was magnified by the wavering light 
until he seemed a veritable giant. His infirmity 
was concealed. He stood upright in the prow 
of his craft looking for all the world like a fierce 
old pirate. 

“ He makes me think of one of those old vi- 
kings we read about,” said George Larkin. 
“ Gee ! I would n’t want him to be coming after 
me with that spear.” 

Everybody agreed. And they all gave a start 
a second later when Al suddenly shot his terri- 
ble voice at them. 

“ Just keep right along the road, boys,” he 
said. “ It runs close to the edge of the bank. 
You can show your lights as much as you like, 
but don’t make a noise.” 


AL JORDAN SPEARS A CARP 161 


Then he shoved off with his spear and the 
search was on. 

The boat moved gently downstream, Mr. 
Hardy dipping his oars slowly and softly. The 
flaring light, held head high by the mast and 
arm, illumined the river in a wide circle. 
Through the pellucid waters the onlookers 
could see the bottom of the stream with startling 
distinctness. The stones, the rocky ledges, the 
old stumps and logs, the hollows and elevations, 
all stood revealed as clearly as though seen 
through the air only. It was a surprisingly 
interesting sight. Mussel shells gleamed white 
in the sand. The water growths could be seen 
swaying gently in the current. 

But the most interesting sight of all was the 
view of the river life. It was like looking 
through the transparent sides of an aquarium. 
Numerous small fishes came darting toward the 
light. Eels in great number could be seen lying 
on the river bottom or wriggling slowly along. 
As the boat approached, most of them would 
dart away, vanishing from sight in clouds of 
mud kicked up by their own tails. The boys 
were fascinated by the sight. And when an 


162 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


enormous eel several feet long was seen gliding 
near the river bottom, the boys could keep quiet 
no longer. 

A1 raised his eyes from the water and waved 
his hand warningly. 

Big fish now began to appear. Some swam 
near the boat. There were bass and pike and 
big mullets. A1 paid no attention to them. 
None of them would would have weighed more 
than six pounds. A1 was after a big one, and 
a carp at that. So he let the others go by. 
Occasionally a carp swam within reach, but none 
that was big enough to suit Al. A number of 
silver carp, very beautiful fish, that Al could 
easily have speared, swam directly under the 
boat. But the giant spearman passed them all, 
never moving from the striking pose he had 
taken at the start, with his spear point resting in 
the water, his right arm elevated, his body bent 
slightly forward, ready for a lightning thrust. 

The party had proceeded perhaps a mile when 
suddenly Al shifted his position a little and 
swung the point of his spear forward. 

“ Ease her up,” he said softly. 

Mr. Hardy slowed the boat. 


AL JORDAN SPEARS A CARP 163 


“ Head her out,” said Al. 

Mr. Hardy turned the prow toward the deep 
water. 

Then appeared the cause of these orders, a 
gigantic fish that the keen vision of Al had 
glimpsed far ahead in the water. It was enor- 
mous. Its tail was barely moving, sending the 
fish slowly forward toward the flaming light, 
which it was doubtless viewing with curiosity. 

“ Swing her out a bit more,” said Al. 

The boat turned gently. 

“ Hold her.” 

The boat stopped dead. The fish came cau- 
tiously on. 

Meantime the boys on the shore had slipped 
to the very edge of the high bank. Here, like 
balcony spectators at a theater, they looked 
down on the boat. 

“ Keep down,” whispered Mr. Young. “ Fish 
can see well. You may scare him away.” 

The boys dropped to their knees, their faces 
peering out through the tall grasses. They 
themselves were in the deep shadow thrown by 
the bank. Their lights were behind them. 

On came the fish, slower and slower. A dozen 


164 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


feet away it stopped, motionless. There the 
carp remained for a full minute, its fins gently 
waving. It was a monster. Curiosity had 
brought it thus close, but the experience of many 
years now kept the giant fish from approaching 
any closer. The situation was critical. The fish 
was motionless, the boat was motionless. The 
slightest movement in the boat might send the 
fish darting away. 

“ Keep quiet,” whispered Al. He himself 
stood like a graven image. He knew that 
sooner or later curiosity would overcome caution 
in that fish. He was right. After what seemed 
an age the carp’s tail moved. The fish came 
toward the boat, slowly, almost imperceptibly at 
first. Not a soul stirred. When the fish was 
within six feet of the boat, it turned slightly, 
presenting its broad side to the spearman. But 
the fish was still too far away and its new course 
would soon take it out of reach. It was now 
or never. 

“ Swing her in,” growled Al. 

Gently the nose of the boat turned toward 
shore. At the same instant Al slid his right 
hand high up the shaft of his spear and cau- 


AL JORDAN SPEARS A CARP 165 

tiously slipped the prongs through the water 
toward the big fish. 

“ A little more,” whispered Al. 

The boat swung closer to the carp. Now the 
fish was only three feet away. Al gathered him- 
self for the thrust. The fish seemed to divine 
what was coming. There was a swirl in the water 
and the carp darted directly under the boat. 
The boys on shore groaned. They could not see 
into the shadow beneath the boat. Swift as was 
the rush of the fish, Al had been even swifter. 
The carp and the darting spear had met directly 
below the side of the boat and the spear was now 
buried deep in the back of the g^eat fish. 

In the darkness, under the boat, the fish was 
fighting for its life. To keep it from tearing 
loose from the prongs of the spear, Al was now 
bearing down hard on the gig, pressing the 
carp tight against the river bottom. It was no 
easy job to hold it there. The huge fish squirmed 
and wriggled and tossed about so violently that 
Al almost upset the boat in his struggles. Sud- 
denly the carp gave a tremendous flop, raised 
itself clear of the bottom, and darted for the 
deep water. The spear was dragged almost out 


166 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


of Al’s hands. He leaned far over the side of 
the boat to keep the shaft from breaking. 

“ Swing her out! Swing her out! ” he cried. 

But before Mr. Hardy could dip his oars, the 
yardarm with the heavy torch swung toward the 
lower side of the boat, and this added weight 
nearly overturned the craft. She dipped water. 
Mr. Hardy sprang to the other side to right her. 
The loosened arm flopped with the motion of 
the boat. One of the wire stays broke. The 
basket of flaming pine-knots fell sizzling into 
the river. The fishermen were left in absolute 
darkness. 

“ The palousers! ” cried Mr. Young. 

The boys on the bank jumped back to the 
roadway where their little camp lanterns were 
still burning. In an instant twelve palousers 
were sending their searchlight beams to the aid 
of the fishermen. The boys on the bank saw 
that the boat was partly filled with water, but 
A1 still had the carp fast against the bottom. 

“ See if you can scoop him,” said A1 to Mr. 
Hardy. The latter took a great scoop net from 
the bottom of the boat, and leaning far over the 
side, began to work the lower rim of the net 


AL JORDAN SPEARS A CARP 167 


under the captured fish. The palousers threw 
a bright beam under the boat, aiding Mr. Hardy 
greatly. He worked the net inch by inch under 
the great fish until its head and half its body 
were within the circle of the meshes. 

“ Lift up a little,” said Mr. Hardy. 

A1 raised the fish, that now was struggling 
but feebly, clear of the bottom. 

“See if you can shove him any farther into 
the net,” said Mr. Hardy. 

The spear itself prevented the complete en- 
meshment of the fish. But A1 succeeded in jam- 
ming all but a few inches of the tail into the net. 
Then very carefully they raised the big fish to 
the surface, the spearmen all the while pressing 
it down into the net. They had to be careful 
lest they upset the boat. 

“ Get hold of his gills, Lew,” said Mr. Hardy. 

Lew thrust an arm into the net and grasped 
the fish firmly, as directed. 

“ I ’ve got him,” he said. 

A1 drew the gig out of the fish’s back. 

“ Up with him,” said Mr. Hardy, lifting the 
net. 

Lew hoisted also, and in another minute the 


168 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


monstrous fish lay helpless in the bottom of the 
boat. 

The craft was now headed upstream and tied 
up at the cove. The party proceeded to camp, 
with A1 in the lead, triumphantly carrying the 
catch in one hand. At the camp it was found 
that the fish was thirty-nine inches long and 
that it weighed twenty-seven pounds. It was a 
great night for Camp Brady. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE STARS AS A GUIDE IN THE FOREST 

j^Y this time the evening was well advanced. 

But though the usual hour for sleep had 
come, the boys were still too much excited over 
the stirring struggle they had witnessed to feel 
at all sleepy. Someone proposed a camp fire. 

“ Very well,” said Mr. Hardy, “ but build a 
small one.” 

Lew Heinsling got a handful of wood and 
soon had a small blaze going, such as a woods- 
man would use for cooking. The boys gathered 
close about this diminutive camp fire, which was 
hardly warm enough to keep off the evening chill. 
They formed a striking little group, ringed so 
close about the flames, with nothing visible be- 
hind them save the indistinct white blur of the 
tents. An onlooker would have been reminded 
of an Indian council, with the braves sitting 
close about the council fire. 

“ If you should suddenly be overtaken by 


170 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


darkness while tramping in these mountains,” 
said Mr. Hardy, after the boys had settled them- 
selves comfortably, “ how would you find your 
way out? ” 

“ By remembering how the land looks,” said 
Willie Brown. 

“ I ’m afraid that would n’t help,” replied Mr. 
Hardy, “ because no matter how well you 
remembered the appearance of things, you 
could n’t see them in the dark.” 

“ I ’d follow a brook down till it led me to 
the river,” said Alec Cunningham. 

“ There might not be any brook to follow,” 
returned Mr. Hardy, “ and when you did get 
to the river you might not know where you 
were. Then you would n’t know whether to go 
upstream or downstream.” 

“ I know how you ’d get out,” said Lew 
Heinsling. “ You ’d do just what General Bur- 
rows did — find your way out by the stars.” 

“ Good,” replied Mr. Hardy. “ That ’s ex- 
actly what you ’d have to do. But before you 
could get out that way, you ’d have to be fa- 
miliar with the heavens. Did any of you ever 
see a star map? ” 


STARS AS A GUIDE IN THE FOREST 171 


“ A star map ! ” cried Roy. “ Are there maps 
of the stars? ” 

“ Yes, Roy,” said Mr. Hardy. “ The heavens 
above us are mapped out just like the earth. 
In the maps of the earth there are mountains 
and rivers and lakes and oceans, but in the maps 
of the heavens there are planets and stars and 
moons and suns. If you will look up at the sky, 
you will see that the stars form little triangles 
and squares and other figures. These groups 
are called constellations. All these things are 
indicated on a star map. If you had one of 
these maps and could see the stars, you would 
know which way to travel. Suppose you were 
lost in these mountains and you knew that you 
ought to go west. By traveling steadily toward 
a given star, you would be moving west. That 
is just what General Burrows did. He was 
traveling northward when he got lost. I have 
no doubt he found his way out by following the 
north star.” 

By this time all the campers were on their feet, 
looking upward at the heavens. The light of 
the fire interfered with their vision. 

“ Put it out,” ordered the camp leader. 


172 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


The boys kicked the little fire to pieces and 
soon stamped out the last glowing ember. 
While they were doing this, Mr. Hardy went to 
his tent and returned with a lighted palouser 
and a curious little thing he called a planisphere. 
It consisted of a disc of black paper a foot wide 
mounted on a pasteboard frame that revolved 
within a second frame so shaped that only an 
oval portion of the black disc showed at one time. 
This black surface was thickly studded with gilt 
dots and stars and zigzag lines. Mr. Hardy 
told the boys that this exposed oval represented 
just that portion of the entire sky that was visi- 
ble at any one time. By setting the disc accord- 
ing to some figures on the edge of the frame, 
one could see on the planisphere exactly how the 
heavens would appear on any given hour of any 
given night. Mr. Hardy set the planisphere to 
show the stars as they were at that moment. 
Then he held the planisphere in front of his pa- 
louser and the boys saw that the black disc was 
translucent. Against the light of the palouser 
they could see every dot and mark of the star 
map. 

“ Face south and hold it over your head,” 


STARS AS A GUIDE IN THE FOREST 173 


said Mr. Hardy, handing the planisphere to 
Lew Heinsling. 

Lew did so, and Mr. Hardy turned the light 
of his palouser on the upper surface of the 
planisphere. 

“ Take a good look at the map,” said Mr. 
Hardy, “ and then look at the sky itself.” 

“ The stars are exactly like this map! ” cried 
Lew in astonishment. 

“ You mean the map is exactly like the stars,” 
corrected Mr. Hardy. “ Of course not all the 
stars are there. The little ones are left out, just 
as the little brooks and the small hills are left 
out of a map of the earth. But all the principal 
stars are there and all the necessary heavenly 
landmarks.” 

Every boy in the group took a look through 
the planisphere and expressed his astonishment. 

“ Do you know that the stars have names? ” 
asked Mr. Hardy. 

Several of the boys knew the names of one or 
two stars. 

“Who named ’em?” inquired George, eager 
as usual for knowledge. 

“ I cannot tell you,” replied Mr. Hardy. 


174 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ Nobody knows who named the stars. They 
had names before men began to write history. 
We can hardly appreciate how old the stars are. 
You boys think of the days of the Revolutionary 
War and George Washington as far, far away. 
These very stars were shining when George 
Washington was leading the men of ’76. These 
same stars guided Christopher Columbus when 
he came across the Atlantic and discovered 
America. When Jesus was born, the same stars 
looked down on the earth. Thousands of years 
before that, in the days of the Pharaohs and 
Nebuchadnezzar — who had that hot fire for 
Daniel’s friends, Willie — and before that, in 
the days when Noah was building his ark, and 
even before that, when Adam and Eve lived in 
the Garden of Eden, these same stars looked 
down on the earth. Practically they never 
change, they never move, though the astrono- 
mers with their telescopes have detected some 
slight alterations that have taken place during 
the centuries. The stars are God’s guideposts 
at night. They guided the Arabs over the track- 
less deserts, they showed the way to the shep- 
herds guarding their flocks by night.” 


STARS AS A GUIDE IN THE FOREST 175 


“ It was a great star that told the shepherds 
of the birth of Jesus,” interrupted Roy. “ Can 
we see that star? ” 

“ No,” returned Mr. Hardy, “ because that 
star, according to the Bible, was a new star that 
suddenly blazed out. Nobody knows what be- 
came of it. But there was a star that suddenly 
appeared fifteen hundred and seventy-two years 
after the birth of Christ, that flamed out in the 
sky brighter than any star the astronomers 
knew. That star was so bright it could be seen 
even at noon when the sun was at its brightest. 
People thought it might be the same star that 
was seen by the shepherds of Palestine — that 
told the shepherds of the birth of Jesus, and for 
a long time the star was called the Pilgrim’s 
Star. Astronomers no longer believe this was 
the star of Bethlehem, and now the star is al- 
ways called Tycho Brahe’s star, after the fa- 
mous astronomer who made the deepest study of 
it. In a few months the star began to fade. 
To-day no one is certain where Tycho’s star was, 
although astronomers believe that that star is 
now a little pin point of light that can be seen 
only with the most powerful telescopes.” 


176 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ You said the stars practically did not 
change,” said Roy. “ Did n’t this one change? ” 
• “ Yes, Roy; but this was one of the few ex- 

ceptions. Most of the stars practically do not 
change and do not move, so far as we can dis- 
cover. But a few stars vary. One star, Algol, 
changes from bright to dim every three days. 
There is one star, Mira, that alters every eleven 
months, and another that flames up every sev- 
enty years. That is why the astronomers at 
first thought that Tycho’s star was the star of 
Bethlehem. They knew that a bright star had 
been seen at irregular intervals of about three 
hundred years, and so they reckoned back in 
three-hundred-year periods and found that this 
brought them to the time of Christ. So they 
thought Tycho’s star was the star of Bethlehem.” 

“ How did the shepherds know that the bright 
star in the sky meant that Jesus was born? ” 
inquired Henry Harper. 

“ I ’m glad you asked that question, Henry,” 
returned Mr. Hardy. “ You see, in olden times 
people were very superstitious. They believed 
the stars controlled or affected human affairs. 
The Hebrews were in the power of the Romans, 


STARS AS A GUIDE IN THE FOREST 177 


you know, and they were looking forward to 
the birth of a savior that they believed would 
restore their national power. The stars in a 
certain part of the sky were believed to affect 
the fortunes of the Israelites, and when this 
wonderful, blazing star suddenly appeared in 
that part of the heavens, they naturally thought 
that it heralded the coming of the Messiah.’’ 

“ Were all the thousands of stars in the sky 
supposed to affect somebody? ” asked Jimmy 
Donnelly. 

“ I can’t tell you about that,” returned Mr. 
Hardy, “ but I can tell you something about the 
number of the stars. How many thousands do 
you think you can see?” 

Jimmy looked upward. “ I don’t know,” he 
faltered. “ There ’s an awful lot of them.” 

“ Well, Jimmy,” replied the camp leader, 
“ no one has ever been able to see more than 
three thousand stars with the naked eye. But 
with telescopes an enormous number can be seen. 
Even a pair of little opera glasses increases the 
number of the stars from three thousand to 
one hundred thousand, and the big telescopes in 
the great observatories have shown more than 


178 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


one billion stars, according to the estimates of the 
astronomers. Every time a telescope of greater 
power is made, more stars are discovered. So 
no one knows, and probably no one ever will 
know, just how many stars there are. 5 * 

Mr. Hardy paused a moment. 

“ Have you any idea of the size of the stars,” 
he asked, “ or of how far away they are? ” 

“ They look about as big as candles,” said 
Henry, “ but of course they must be bigger than 
that, for they are far away. Some of them must 
be miles away.” 

“ They are bigger and farther away,” replied 
the camp leader, “ than any of you realize.” 

Then turning to Mr. Young, he said, “ You 
know more about these things than I do. Will, 
for you are an engineer. Tell the boys how big 
the stars are.” 

“Does anyone know how big the earth is?” 
asked the new speaker. 

“ Twenty-five thousand miles in circumfer- 
ence and eight thousand miles in diameter,” 
answered George. 

“ Good,” said Mr. Young. “ It ’s a pretty 
big world, is n’t it? But it ’s a mere pea beside 


STARS AS A GUIDE IN THE FOREST 179 


some of those shining bodies up in the sky. 
Which is the brightest star in sight ? ” 

The boys scanned the heavens carefully. 

“ That one,” they agreed, pointing to a blaz- 
ing yellow body a little west of the zenith. 

“ Correct,” returned Mr. Young. “ That ’s 
Arcturus, one of the very brightest stars. In 
fact there is only one star that is brighter, and 
you can’t see that star until winter, when the 
earth has moved farther along in its orbit. 

“ We know how big the earth is. But big as 
it is, it is small compared to the sun, and the sun 
in turn is little beside Arcturus. Let us say the 
earth is a tennis ball. In comparison with that 
the sun would be a ball twenty-three feet in 
diameter, while Arcturus would be a ball twenty- 
three hundred feet or nearly half a mile in diam- 
eter. You have all seen pictures of the Wool- 
worth Building, the highest building in the 
world. If you had a ball three times as thick as 
the Woolworth Building is high and placed a 
tennis ball beside it, you could see how the earth 
compares with Arcturus. We can hardly un- 
derstand how immense Arcturus is.” 

“ If it is so big,” interrupted Jimmy Don- 


180 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


nelly, “ why isn’t it brighter? You say it is 
much bigger than the sun, but it looks like a 
hand lamp compared to the sun.” 

“ It is bright, Jimmy,” replied Mr. Young. 
“It is terribly bright. It is sixty-two hundred 
times as bright as the sun. But it is far away. 
If it were as near as the sun, I presume it would 
burn us up with its heat. It looks dim because 
it is so far away. 

“ It is so far away that the figures would 
mean nothing to you. But perhaps I can show 
you its distance in another way. Light probably 
travels faster than anything else we know of. 
Light goes so fast that in one second it could go 
round the earth seven times. A tick of a watch 
is one-fifth of a second, the smallest fraction of 
time that can be measured. Yet light can circle 
the earth once in a single tick of a watch. Now 
Arcturus is so far away from us that if a beam 
of light started from that star at this moment, it 
would take that beam of light one hundred and 
sixty years to reach us. The light from Arcturus 
that you are looking at this minute started from 
that star at the time the French and Indian War 
began, and has been traveling toward us ever 


STARS AS A GUIDE IN THE FOREST 181 


since at the rate of one hundred and eighty-six 
thousand miles a second. That ’s how far away 
Arcturus is. But the distance is so enormous 
that we cannot comprehend it.” 

4 4 Mr. Young, how do the astronomers know 
all these things? ” inquired George. 

44 That ’s a hard question to answer, George. 
When you are older and know something about 
higher mathematics, perhaps you could under- 
stand their methods. All I can tell you now is 
that by means of their wonderful telescopes and 
the spectroscope and higher mathematics they 
make many tests, and these tests are without 
doubt true. The astronomers know. AJ1 that 
the rest of us can do is to take their word for it. 
There are hundreds of interesting things to learn 
about the stars. Some night when the sky is 
clear again, we can talk some more about the 
stars. It ’s pretty late now and we had better 
turn in.” 


CHAPTER XV 


THE TRIP TO BUC KNELL 

"p^ARLY the next morning Mr. Young went 
up to the Robinson farmhouse and tele- 
phoned to the librarian at Bucknell, asking if 
the latter would be willing to have the campers 
come to the college to see the Indian relics. The 
kind-hearted librarian, always ready to accom- 
modate others even at personal inconvenience, 
made Mr. Young feel that nothing could please 
him more than to open the library and show the 
boys the Gernerd Collection, as the Bucknell In- 
dian relics are called, in honor of the man whose 
love of the past led him to gather and preserve 
these priceless memorials of the days that are 
gone. So at breakfast Mr. Young announced 
the trip to Bucknell as the order of the day. A 
great shout greeted the announcement. 

Squad duties were suspended for the time be- 
ing, because the train left Muncy at eight o’clock 
and the campers had barely time enough to reach 


THE TRIP TO BUCKNELL 183 


the station. Indeed by the time the boys were 
assembled for the journey there remained only 
thirty minutes. The distance to the station was 
exactly two miles and a quarter. 

“We ’ll have to do some fast traveling,” said 
Mr, Young as he looked at his watch, “ but we 
can make it.” 

He led the party at a swift walk down the 
hillside and along the road for some hundreds 
of yards. 

“ Now we ’ll go scout pace,” he ordered. 

This method of traveling, fifty yards at a 
walk and fifty at a dogtrot, the campers had 
practiced on several occasions. Now they swung 
into a sharp trot, then dropped to a walk, then 
back to a trot again. The pace carried them 
over the ground at a fast rate. But it was a 
close race. The train was already in sight when 
the party reached the station, and was coming 
to a grinding stop before Mr. Young received 
his tickets and his change. The trip was his treat. 

The train bore the party swiftly southward, 
back over the very same route they had traversed 
on the ride from Central City. They had been 
in camp less than three weeks, but to the boys it 


184 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


seemed like a very long time since they had 
come steaming up this beautiful valley. So 
much had happened in the meantime. The boys 
realized as they never had before that in very 
truth 4 4 we live in thoughts, in feelings, not in 
figures on a dial.” The time they had spent in 
camp had been short, but it had been packed full 
of unforgettable experiences. The making of 
the camp, the hike to Fort Brady, the camp 
fires at night, the spearing of the great carp, the 
fight with the forest fire, Lew’s escape from 
death — all these things came to their minds as 
the train sped on; but mostly they thought of 
Lew and the snake. It was on the train that 
the first-aid kit had been lost. It was evident 
that everybody was thinking of this. 

“We don’t have any bundles this — ” began 
Roy Mercer. Then he stopped short and called 
to Alec to look at the rapids. Roy was too kind 
at heart to hurt anyone’s feelings. What he had 
said had slipped from him before he thought. 

Mr. Hardy glanced at Lem. The latter 
winced at Roy’s remark. But immediately 
there came to his face a look of grim determina- 
tion. It was far different from the old sullen 


THE TRIP TO BUCKNELL 185 


look. Mr. Hardy smiled with pleasure. Pie 
knew Lem was making a mental resolve to keep 
on in his good ways. Mr. Hardy leaned across 
the aisle and laid his hand firmly on Lem’s 
shoulder. 

“Great country for a camp, isn’t it?” he 
remarked. 

Lem understood. He raised his eyes grate- 
fully. 

“ Indeed it is,” he said. 

Mr. Hardy pressed Lem’s shoulder and sank 
back in his seat. 

“ That boy is going to make a good man, 
Will,” he said. “ He ’s got good stuff in him, 
but nobody ever before tried to bring it out.” 

When the party reached Lewisburg, after a 
ride of half an hour, Mr. Young lined the boys 
up by twos, and in this order they marched out 
to the college campus. On the way they turned 
aside, just before reaching a pretty little stream, 
and made their way to a mill close by. It was in 
operation, and little puffs of steam were issuing 
with clock-like regularity from an exhaust pipe. 

“ This little mill,” said Mr. Young, “ now 
runs by steam, as you can see. But once yonder 


186 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


little stream ran the machinery. In those days 
the mill was a little structure built of logs. To 
look at it now, with its smooth weatherboards 
and its big scales, you would never think it was 
an old mill. To be sure this particular building 
is new. But a mill has stood on this spot for 
nearly a century and a half. Whose mill do you 
think it was?” 

“ I know,” cried George Larkin. “ This must 
be Derr’s mill, and here is where Captain Brady 
upset the whisky barrel.” 

“ You are entirely correct, George. This is 
the very spot.” 

The boys gazed about with interest. 

“ Think how the country has changed since 
the time of Captain Brady,” said Henry. 
“ Why, this was all forest then. Now we are in 
a little city. It ’s wonderful! ” 

The walk was now resumed. Almost imme- 
diately the party came in sight of the campus, 
at the end of a beautiful avenue lined with elms 
and maples. At the great stone pillars of the 
gateway the party paused to survey the campus. 

Before them, on the level ground, lay a 
beautiful unenclosed athletic field with a gym- 


THE TRIP TO BUCKNELL 187 


nasium behind it. Along the right side of the 
field the ground rose sharply. On this natural 
grand stand were long rows of seats, shaded by 
the towering trees that covered the entire hill. 
Far above the seats, on the brow of the hill, 
could be discerned groups of college buildings. 
On the opposite side of the athletic field, per- 
haps two hundred yards distant, the Susque- 
hanna swept majestically by. 

“ As you see,” began Mr. Young, “ this is our 
athletic field.” 

“ Was it here that Christy Mathewson learned 
to play ball? ” broke in Jimmy Donnelly. 

“ It was,” replied Mr. Young, “ and a great 
many other famous big league players, whose 
names you know well, learned the game here. 
Barclay, Daniels, Blair, Sebring, Wyckoff, and 
many others got their first idea of the finer points 
of baseball on yonder diamond. Some of them 
are dead now. Some are physicians, lawyers, 
and some are still playing ball. But this is their 
college home, and they all cherish loyal memories 
of Bucknell, just as some of you do of the 
Central City High School.” 

The party moved on, mounting the hill by a 


188 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


path that curved its way upward through the 
arching trees. There were many buildings on 
the hill, but time was limited and the campers 
pushed on through a great quadrangle to a low 
brick building at the rear, which bore on its walls 
such names as Shakespeare, Dante, and Milton. 

“ That is the library,” said Mr. Young. “ The 
Gernerd Collection is on the second floor.” 

In the office the librarian was awaiting the 
party. He was all that Mr. Young had de- 
scribed him to be, a gentle old gentleman, whose 
face reflected the great good will that filled his 
heart. 

“ I ’m very glad to see you,” he said briefly as 
he led the way upstairs. 

In a minute the boys were absorbed in the 
Gernerd Collection. In great cases on the floor, 
and in rows of shelves that lined the walls, there 
were thousands and thousands of Indian im- 
plements. None of the boys had ever seen so 
many aboriginal relics. 

“Phew!” said Roy, “it must have taken a 
long time to collect all these.” 

The librarian overheard the remark. 

“ It did, my boy,” he said, turning to Roy. 


THE TRIP TO BUCKNELL 189 


“ It took a man the better part of a lifetime. He 
loved the story of the past and he wanted to 
preserve these memorials of a vanished people. 
You are all indebted to his unselfish labors for 
the pleasure and knowledge that will come to 
you from your visit to-day.” 

“ He talks just like Mr. Hardy, does n’t he? ” 
said Roy to Johnnie a little later. 

“ Yes, and he ’s right,” replied Johnnie. “ I 
never thought about what a fellow owes to 
others until Mr. Hardy pointed it out.” 

Then he gave a little cry, for his eye had 
fallen on a particularly fine group of arrow- 
heads. “ ‘ Found near Fort Brady,’ ” he read. 
The boys came flocking round. Some of the 
arrowheads were long and slender, some thick 
and short. There were also some very sharp, 
tiny arrowheads intended for use as poison 
carriers. 

Presently George Larkin called out, “ Come 
here! ” The boys flocked about him. In a case 
before George were some cylindrical stone im- 
plements that looked not unlike thin rolling pins 
without handles. “ ‘ Indian pestles,’ ” read 
George, “ ‘ found south of Muncy.’ ” 


190 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ Maybe they were found near the old mor- 
tar on Judge Brown’s estate,” suggested Lem. 

Everybody looked to Mr. Hardy for verifi- 
cation of the suggestion. 

“ I don’t know, boys,” he said. “ The pla- 
card does not say exactly where they were dis- 
covered. But it may well be that they were 
picked up in the very ravine by the mortar. 
That would be a likely place to find them. Now 
you can see exactly how the Indians made corn 
meal. They ground the maize in the mortar by 
crushing it with one end of a pestle. Pretty slow 
work as compared with the way they make meal 
at the mill we visited on the way up, was n’t it? ” 
“ Why, it must have taken all their time just 
to get food and prepare it,” said Alec. 

“ You ’re exactly right,” returned Mr. Hardy. 
“ The Indians had a hard time to live. Most of 
their time went into hunting game or catching 
fish, or drying meat and tanning skins. You see 
it was about all they could do to get enough to 
eat. But they were savages. That ’s the differ- 
ence between savagery and civilization. We 
have a hard enough time to make ends meet, but 
we have many comforts and pleasures. Think 


THE TRIP TO BUCKNELL 191 


of our easy life as compared with Captain 
Brady’s or General Burrows’. And even they 
were far more comfortable than the Indians 
were.” 

George Larkin had found some net sinkers 
that interested him very much, and the party 
was now invited by George’s excited cry to 
“ Come look! ” Then Lew found some toma- 
hawks and stone hatchets. Pieces of pottery 
and some Indian pipes also claimed attention. 
Carl Dexter was much excited over some skin- 
ners, with which the Indians stripped the hides 
off their game. Carl had taken the pelts of many 
small animals and knew exactly how these 
implements were used. As the boys crowded 
around him he explained how to handle each tool. 

Many of the implements had perforations in 
them, through which a string could be passed. 
Presently one of the party found the instru- 
ments with which these holes were made. These 
drills were needle-like shafts of hardest flint, of 
varying lengths, with expanded bases by which 
they could be grasped and turned. 

A little bottle containing a small piece of 
brownish-yellow material that looked like caked 


192 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


mustard now attracted attention. “ ‘ Material 
for poisoning arrows,’ ” read Roy. 

“ That is the stuff the Indians used on those 
tiny arrowheads,” said the librarian. “ They 
made a paste or solution of it and dipped their 
arrows in it, then let it dry, just as we put 
mucilage on letter flaps and let it dry. When 
we wet a letter flap, the mucilage becomes sticky 
again. When one of those poisoned arrows en- 
tered the body, the blood moistened the dried 
film of poison, and the poison went through the 
body just as a snake’s poison does — if you 
know how that is.” 

Everybody was silent for a moment. Then 
Roy said: “ I think it was an awful thing to 
use poison on arrows. It did n’t give a wounded 
man a chance.” 

“ Only savages fight in such an unfair way,” 
returned the librarian. 

Presently Charley Russell came across a col- 
lection of rounded stones that looked like large 
doorknobs. In the center of one side each stone 
had a rounded depression. 

“ What are these? ” asked Charley. 

Everybody looked at the strange implements, 


THE TRIP TO BUCKNELL 193 


but no one knew their use. The librarian had to 
tell them. They were handles for fire drills. 

“You see, the Indians had no matches,” said 
the librarian, “ nor did they have even flint and 
steel until long after the white men came. So 
their only method of making a fire was by fric- 
tion, by rubbing two sticks together. This was 
done, not as you might suppose, but by means 
of certain instruments. When an Indian wanted 
fire, he put a flat piece of wood on the ground 
and pressed against it with a pointed stick held 
down with one of these peculiar-shaped stones. 
The cavity in the stone is to hold the upper end 
of the drill. The fire maker looped the string 
of his bow around the drill and moved his bow 
rapidly back and forth, like a man sawing. This 
twirled the drill around, ground the wood to 
powder, and ignited the powder. Clumsy as 
this seems, an Indian could start a blaze in less 
than a minute. To these rude forest dwellers 
fire was an absolute necessity, so you can see 
how carefully they treasured their fire drills. 
These were as important to the Indian as 
matches are to us. Even the early white men 
guarded their fires, though they had flint and 
steel.” 


194 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Now Lem found a net sinker marked “ Ly- 
coming Creek.” 

“ That ’s the stream the rangers crossed so 
many times on the way to Tioga, isn’t it?” 
asked George. 

“ You have a good memory,” replied Mr. 
Hardy. “ It is.” 

Then Johnnie Lee found a mortar marked 
“ Wolf Run.” 

“ That must be from the Indian headquarters 
near Fort Brady,” said Willie Brown, “ where 
we heard about Captain Brady’s death.” 

“ Amd where we heard a crow,” added Roy. 

Everybody laughed at that. 

“Well, boys,” said Mr. Young, “we’ll have 
to be moving. Our train leaves at a quarter of 
twelve.” 

“ Train time ! ” exclaimed Roy in astonish- 
ment. “ Already? ” 

“ Yes,” returned Mr. Young. “We had only 
two hours to spend in Lewisburg, and there is 
just time enough to get back to the station.” 

The boys thanked the librarian very warmly. 
It had been a memorable morning. Then with a 
last look at some particularly beautiful arrow- 


THE TRIP TO BUCKNELL 195 


heads, they filed downstairs and made for the 
station at a fast pace. They reached Muncy be- 
fore half past twelve and were at camp soon 
after one o’clock. A1 had dinner waiting for 
them. 

“ Fellows,” said Henry as they took their 
seats, “ let ’s give three cheers for Mr. Young.” 

The campers jumped to their feet and made 
the tent ring. 


CHAPTER XVI 


A TEST OF MARKSMANSHIP 

INCLUDED in the camp equipment were 
three revolvers. The two leaders had brought 
their own pistols, because, although they antici- 
pated no danger, they thought it best to be on 
the safe side. Desperate characters sometimes 
wander about the country, and should anyone 
try to rob the camp, they wanted to be armed. 
Then several of the boys had asked if they might 
bring firearms. The question had been con- 
sidered duly, and finally Mr. Hardy had an- 
nounced that Carl Dexter might bring his pistol. 
There was discontent at this, for it looked like 
favoritism, but Mr. Hardy had quickly made 
the boys feel differently about the matter. 

“ You see, Carl has proved his carefulness and 
his ability to handle a pistol, because he has 
owned a pistol for two years and has never got- 
ten into trouble through it,” said Mr. Hardy. 
“ And it would n’t be fair to punish Carl because 
of the inability of others. 


A TEST OF MARKSMANSHIP 197 


“ Just as soon as the rest of you prove your- 
selves as marksmen and show that you can be 
trusted with pistols,” Mr. Hardy had told them, 
“ you may bring as many firearms to camp as 
you like. We are going to make it a point in 
our camps — for we may go camping again you 
know — to let every boy do the things he wants 
to just as fast as he proves he is man enough to 
be trusted.” 

So Carl had brought along his pistol, and the 
boys were entirely contented with the situation. 
But naturally they were extremely eager to 
qualify as marksmen. And so almost from the 
start, pistol practice had held a place in the 
camp sports together with baseball, swimming, 
and paddling. 

The pistol range was on the south side of the 
clearing. A large rock stood just at the edge of 
the forest on this side of the camp, and against 
the rock the target was placed. This consisted 
of a sheet of white paper about two feet square, 
w T ith a bull’s-eye in the center surrounded by 
concentric rings. The bulFs-eye was one inch 
in diameter. The target was fastened on a 
board and the holes made by the bullets were 


198 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


covered up with white paper stickers that Carl 
had brought along. The firing line was fifteen 
yards from the target. 

Some amusing things had happened during 
pistol practice. On the first day of practice all 
the boys excepting Carl had been given three 
shots around, so that the camp leaders could get 
an idea of each boy’s ability. Each was sure he 
could hit the bull’s-eye, and those who had 
wanted to bring pistols were, of course, most 
eager to make a good showing. They had begun 
their firing at this first practice with supreme 
confidence. The target was only forty-five feet 
away. They couldn’t miss it! But boy after 
boy had retired crestfallen after his three shots. 
Hitting a bull’s-eye at forty-five feet, the boys 
found, was no easy tiling to do. Nobody had 
come anywhere near the center of the target. 
Roy and Henry each got a bullet within the 
third ring, but the rest of the boys were barely 
able to hit the sheet of paper. Indeed many of 
the bullets flattened on the rock entirely outside 
of the white sheet. 

And when Willie Brown took his turn, the 
bullets never even hit the rock. At the first shot 


A TEST OF MARKSMANSHIP 199 


Mr. Hardy thought perhaps a blank cartridge 
had gotten into the pistol, but when the second 
and third shots missed the rock, he knew the 
fault was with Willie. 

“ Let Willie try again,” he ordered. 

So Willie got three more trials. He raised his 
weapon and aimed carefully. The pistol seemed 
to be leveled right, but again the bullet flew out 
into the forest. Mr. Hardy stepped behind 
Willie. 

“ Aim again,” he said. Willie did. “ You 
are not pointing anywhere near the target,” said 
Mr. Hardy. 

“ I ’m aiming right at it,” replied Willie. 

The camp leader was puzzled. “ Shoot,” he 
said. Once more the bullet flew wide of the rock. 
“ Willie, which eye were you aiming with? ” 
asked Mr. Young. 

“ The left one,” replied Willie. “ I closed the 
right one.” 

The boys sent up a shout at this, and even the 
camp leaders joined in the laugh. “ Try aim- 
ing with the other eye,” said Mr. Young. 

Willie did so, and this time his bullet hit the 
edge of the paper. “ You can shoot about as 


200 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


well as the rest of them, Willie,” said Mr. 
Young, “ now that you know how. But that 
is n’t much of a compliment.” 

The camp leaders with Carl — and really it 
was Carl, for he could shoot better than either 
of the leaders — had then taken the boys in hand 
and shown them how to stand, how to poise the 
weapon, how to aim, and particularly how to 
hold the pistol. Most of them had been gripping 
the pistol butt very tightly and squeezing down 
hard when they fired. That depressed the pistol 
and spoiled the aim. Now Carl showed each 
boy how to grasp the pistol firmly but lightly, 
how to hold his arm loose instead of rigid, and 
how to move only his trigger finger in firing. 
Many times each boy went through the motion 
of shooting until he had learned to pull the 
trigger with perfect steadiness. 

“ Now let ’s do a little more real shooting,” 
said Mr. Hardy after this imitation firing. 

The pistols were loaded and the boys again 
had three shots apiece. There was a marked 
improvement in the shooting, and although no- 
body came near making a bull’s-eye, all of the 
bullets fired now hit the paper, 


A TEST OF MARKSMANSHIP 201 


“ Willie,” said Mr. Hardy when Willie’s turn 
came, “ here ’s a thing you can do as well as 
anybody. You can’t run as fast as Jimmy be- 
cause your legs are too short, and you can’t 
throw a ball as far as Henry because he is so 
much stronger than you. But in shooting a pistol 
you are just as good as anybody. If you can 
control your hand and arm and keep your aim 
steady, you can shoot as well as any of us. It 
is merely a matter of self-confidence.” 

And Willie had shown that he was begin- 
ning to have some self-confidence by putting 
a bullet just outside of the first ring around the 
bull’s-eye. 

Two or three times each week the boys gath- 
ered for an hour’s pistol practice. It was sur- 
prising how they grew in proficiency. After 
that very first practice there had hardly been a 
bullet that missed the sheet of paper entirely. 
There were few that did not leave a black mark 
at least within the outer circle of the target. As 
one practice period succeeded another the skill 
of the campers increased so that the black dots 
grew more numerous within the first circle 
around the bull’s-eye, and not infrequently Carl 


202 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


was called upon for a black sticker to mend a 
puncture in the bull’s-eye itself. It soon be- 
came apparent that Roy and Charley and Jimmy 
and Willie were developing into the best marks- 
men. 

About a week before the return to Central 
City a shooting contest was held right after din- 
ner one day. Each boy was to have five shots. 
A bull’s-eye was to count one hundred points, a 
bullet in the first ring counted twenty-five points, 
in the second ring fifteen, in the third ring ten, 
and in the fourth ring five points. Bullets strik- 
ing outside of the fourth ring counted nothing. 
Carl generously said that he would not compete 
with the other campers. 

Each boy was eager to win the contest. The 
highest possible score, five bull’s-eyes, would net 
five hundred points. Of course none of the con- 
testants hoped to make any such score. Mr. 
Hardy decided that the firing should be done in 
alphabetical order, beginning with Alec and end- 
ing with Willie. 

So Alec took a loaded pistol and stepped to 
the firing line. He was very nervous. He raised 
his pistol and aimed, then lowered it and aimed 


A TEST OF MARKSMANSHIP 203 


again. But it was not until he had taken still 
another aim that he pulled the trigger. Nothing 
showed on the target. Alec looked chagrined. 
He was just about to fire his second shot when 
Mr. Young raised his hand. 

“ Wait a minute,” he said. Then he walked 
over to the target. “ I thought as much,” he 
called out. “ Alec has made a bull’s-eye.” 

The bullet had buried itself in the black heart 
of the target in such a way that the bull’s-eye 
looked untouched. A shout went up at Alec’s 
success. And Alec himself smiled. His bull’s- 
eye, however, was all a matter of luck, for his 
second and third shots barely came within the 
third ring, and his last two shots almost missed 
the scoring area altogether. So he had two fives, 
two tens, and one hundred, a total of a hundred 
and thirty points. 

Charley Russell shot next. Charley was as 
nervous as Alec had been and started badly. 
His first shot brought him five points. That 
nettled him and he settled down. His second 
shot was very close to the bull’s-eye. It counted 
twenty-five for him. His third shot hit the line 
dividing the first and second zones. Mr. Hardy 


204 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


ruled that it was within the first zone. So Char- 
ley added twenty-five more to his score. His 
fourth shot was not quite so good and brought 
him only fifteen points. Charley shut his teeth 
tight together, took a quick but steady aim, and 
fired his last shot. It was a clean bull’s-eye. His 
total score was one hundred and seventy points. 

George and Henry shot next. Each scored 
less than a hundred points. Then Jimmy took 
his place on the firing line. His practice as a 
baseball pitcher stood him in good stead, for he 
was as cool as a cucumber. His hand was as 
steady as a steel bar as he raised his pistol, 
sighted quickly, and fired. His bullet just 
missed the bull’s-eye. His second shot was just 
outside of the first circle. His third shot was a 
clean bull’s-eye. His remaining two shots al- 
most hit the center of the target. A quarter of 
an inch closer and he would have scored a hun- 
dred points with each. Jim’s score was one fif- 
teen, three twenty-fives, and one hundred, mak- 
ing a total of one hundred and ninety points. 

No one else scored anywhere nearly as many 
points until Roy took his turn. Fie was the 
tenth to shoot. Roy did very well. He got a 


A TEST OF MARKSMANSHIP 205 


hundred and eighty-five points. If it had not 
been for a bad third shot, which hit the second 
circle, he might have beaten Jimmy. 

Willie Brown shot last. Willie had acquired 
both skill and confidence during his various prac- 
tices. He was so eager now to show his ability 
that he almost defeated himself. His hand was 
trembling visibly when he raised his pistol for his 
first shot. Mr. Hardy noticed it. 

“ Wait a minute, Willie,” he called. “ It 
does n’t make a bit of difference if you do miss 
the target, because we ’ll have some more con- 
tests after awhile. Just take your time.” 

Willie lost some of his nervousness. He 
raised his pistol and fired. The bullet hit the 
first circle. 

“ Twenty-five,” called Mr. Young, who was 
keeping tally. Willie fired again. 

“ One hundred,” cried Mr. Young. “ You are 
doing very well indeed.” 

It was a bull’s-eye. The third shot added 
twenty-five more to Willie’s score. So did the 
fourth. His total was now a hundred and 
seventy-five points. Only Roy and Jimmy were 
ahead of him now and Willie had one shot re- 


206 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


maining. He had an excellent chance to win 
the match. It was a good test of his nerve. 

“ I ’ll show them,” Willie muttered to him- 
self. Then he fired. He did show them. His 
bullet went straight to the center of the target. 

“ Another bull’s-eye,” announced Mr. Young. 
“ Total score two hundred and seventy-five. 
Willie wins the match.” 

“ Excellent,” cried Mr. Hardy as he came 
over and patted Willie on the shoulder. “ Mr. 
Young was right when he said a fellow could do 
a thing if he only thought he could, was n’t he, 
Willie? ” 

“ Indeed he was,” replied Willie, who was 
smiling with pride. Jimmy Donnelly was dis- 
appointed at losing, but generously came up and 
congratulated Willie on his success. The others 
crowded around with words of praise. 

“ Well, if Willie can learn to shoot so well, I 
guess the rest of us can too,” said Alec. “ I am 
going to try harder after this.” 

“Me too,” echoed half a dozen voices. 

Now the paper target was removed and a 
broad-headed nail driven into the board. The 
boys had been discussing the feat of the Leather 


A TEST OF MARKSMANSHIP 207 


Stocking in hitting a nail on the head during a 
rifle contest. 

“ It might be done with a rifle,” George Lar- 
kin had said, “ but it could n’t be done with a 
pistol.” 

“ Not at such a great distance,” Carl had re- 
plied, “ but at the ordinary pistol range it could.” 

So now Carl was going to endeavor to hit a 
nail with his pistol bullet. He stepped to the 
firing line and shot two shots at a little mark in 
the rock, “ just to limber up ” as he put it. 

“ Now for the nail,” he said as he leveled his 
pistol for the third time. The bullet scraped the 
head of the nail and buried itself in the wood. 
His next shot hit the nail a little more fairly, 
but also went into the board, after a portion of 
the lead was shaved off by the nail. The third 
shot struck the nail squarely and dropped to 
the ground. All three bullets had touched the 
head of the nail. It was a wonderful exhibition 
of shooting. The boys looked on in astonishment. 

“ I ’d be very proud of myself,” said Mr. 
Hardy, “ if I could shoot like that.” 

“ And I too,” added Mr. Young. 

“ Gee ! he shoots like a regular cowboy,” said 


208 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Roy Mercer. “ He ’d be a good fellow to have 
along if you were held up by robbers.” Every- 
body laughed at the idea. 

“ Your suggestion of robbers,” said Mr. 
Hardy, “ reminds me of the fact that years ago 
there used to be a desperate band of robbers that 
had their headquarters in some caves down the 
river.” 

“ Robbers’ caves! ” yelled Roy. “ Can we see 
’em? ” 

“ Sure ! ” answered Mr. Hardy. 

“ When? ” inquired Roy. 

“ Any time you like.” 

“ Let ’s go now,” urged Roy. 

“ Come on! ” cried all the boys. 

“ Very well,” said Mr. Hardy. 

So the pistols were slipped into pockets and 
the party started for the river road, with Roy 
and Johnnie running excitedly ahead and call- 
ing, “ Robbers’ cave; come on! ” 


CHAPTER XVII 


CARL MEETS WITH AN ADVENTURE 

party went south along the river. All 
the while the hillside grew steeper. Begin- 
ning with the gentle slope in front of their camp, 
the land gradually rose upward at a sharper 
inclination. In a few hundred yards it had 
become too steep for cultivation. 

Here was the scrub growth that constituted 
such a danger at the time of the fire. This scrub 
growth extended from the water’s edge up the 
hill to the line of the forest. Along the river it 
stretched for perhaps a quarter of a mile. 

Beyond this the steep slope was broken by a 
narrow, level strip like a huge niche in the side 
of the mountain. This niche was high above the 
water. It was only a few yards wide. On this 
ledge fisherman Jim had his home. Here, like 
an eagle in his aerie, he could look out over the 
broad expanse of the river and see for miles both 
upstream and down. He occupied a log house, 


210 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


built of squared timbers, chinked with clay. It 
was fisherman Jim who had supplied the torch 
when A1 went gigging. 

Back of fisherman Jim’s the mountain, which 
now rose very sharply, was covered from base to 
summit with a thick forest growth. Here the 
mountain began to assume a rugged aspect. Its 
sides were too steep to retain the soil, and the 
bare bones of the hill began to appear. There 
were single rocks that projected outward. There 
were little stones and huge bowlders, held in 
some incomprehensible way on the side of the 
steep slope and apparently ready to come crash- 
ing down without an instant’s notice. Great 
ledges of ragged rocks thrust themselves out, 
their harsh outlines barely softened by growths 
of moss and lichen. 

Farther down the river the party could see 
that the mountain grew ever steeper, rising at 
length as sheer as the side of a house, while the 
little ledge on which the road lay became nar- 
rower and narrower until it was hardly more 
than a footpath. One needed to be sure-footed 
in traversing it, for in places it was so narrow 
that a single misstep would send one crashing 


CARL MEETS WITH ADVENTURE 211 


down the face of the precipice to the water some 
fifty feet below. 

Opposite fisherman Jim’s was an island close 
to the farther shore. In length it was perhaps 
three hundred yards. It was evidently very nar- 
row, and when viewed from fisherman Jim’s side 
of the river, seemed to be a mere streak of sand 
and stone. The edges of this little island were 
lined with sandy beach, but the middle was cov- 
ered thickly with stones of good size. In the 
center was what looked like a great stone heap 
that rose several feet above the general level, 
projecting upward like the turret of a warship. 

Roy first called attention to the island. “ That 
would n’t be a bad place to camp,” he said. 
“ You could put your tents on the beach and 
keep your canoes in the little neck of water be- 
hind the island.” 

“ Yes, it would be all right for a camj),” said 
Mr. Hardy, “ if a flood did n’t happen to come 
along.” 

“ Gee! I never thought of that,” said Roy. 
“ The island would be under water in a flood, 
wouldn’t it?” 

“ Yes,” responded Mr. Hardy, “ a flood would 


212 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


completely cover it. In fact it was a flood that 
made that island.” 

“ How could a flood do that? ” asked Robert 
Martin. 

“ What is now the island, Robert,” answered 
Mr. Hardy, “ was once part of the mainland. 
The heap of stones in the middle of the island is 
what is left of the foundations of a great house. 
The house stood some yards back from the shore. 
Then there came an awful flood which began to 
sweep away the earth — you notice it is very 
sandy over there — until a great slice of the bank, 
probably two hundred feet wide, was carried 
away. That left the house right out in the 
raging river, and it was n’t very long before the 
house collapsed and went floating downstream. 
I think the barn was washed away at the same 
time.” 

The party stopped and looked at the island in 
astonishment. 

“ Why did n’t the river take the island too? ” 
asked Henry. 

“ You notice that the island is covered with 
stones,” replied Mr. Hardy. “ The land all 
around it was nothing but sand. But just where 


CARL MEETS WITH ADVENTURE 213 


the island is there was this deposit of stones. 
The river could n’t sweep them away, so that is 
why the island remained.” 

“ What became of the people in the house? ” 
asked W r illie. 

“ I can’t tell you very much about that,” re- 
plied Mr. Hardy. “ I know a great deal about 
the older history of this region, but very little 
about what has happened here in recent years. 
You had better ask fisherman Jim or A1 Jordan. 
They have lived along the river all their lives 
and can tell you about everything that has hap- 
pened for the last fifty years.” 

The party took a last look at the little island 
and continued on their way. 

“ Let ’s take a canoe and go over there some 
time,” said Roy to Johnnie as they resumed their 
walk. 

A short distance below fisherman Jim’s the 
highway turned to the left, off through a notch 
which here split the fence of the mountain. Be- 
yond this point there remained only the foot- 
path, along which it was necessary for the most 
part to go in single file. It was exceedingly 
rugged. The great hill towered above them on 


214 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


the left, while below them on the right the waves 
were lapping at the base of the gray rocks. Cen- 
turies of weathering had cut little gullies and 
channels and even some very deep depressions in 
the face of the cliff. 

This mountain, lying parallel with the river, 
faced slightly to the northwest. Its perpendicu- 
lar face therefore lay in the shadow for a large 
part of the day, getting the direct rays of the 
sun only in the afternoon. This made the path 
they were following a delightful place for a 
walk in the morning, though the sun was now 
pouring down hotly on the party. 

The lack of morning sunlight affected the 
vegetation as well. The boys now found various 
flowers and blossoms that normally should have 
disappeared earlier in the season. Mr. Young 
called attention to this. The boys looked about 
eagerly in search of flower treasures. In tiny 
crannies of the rock were minute fern growths. 
Delicate little harebells dotted the face of the 
cliff, swaying gently in the breeze. The clus- 
tered blossoms of the garlic were sprinkled liber- 
ally about. Here and there appeared a solitary 
stalk of that beautiful yellow flower commonly 


CARL MEETS WITH ADVENTURE 215 


called butter and eggs. Below them at the base 
of the cliff the boys saw occasional solitary stalks 
of the flaming cardinal flower. 

Among the larger growths along the path 
were thimbleberry and blackberry bushes and 
clumps of the ninebark. In the thickly shaded 
little ravines in the face of the cliff were occa- 
sional thickets of rhododendron. At intervals 
clusters of belated rhododendron blossoms 
showed pink through the heavy, dark green foli- 
age. These were prizes indeed, could they but 
have been reached. Mostly they were well up 
the side of the hill, or else the face of the cliff 
was too steep to be scaled. So the campers could 
get none of them. 

But presently the party reached a spot where 
a very deep notch broke the face of the cliff. 
This notch, like a tall, narrow letter V, cut down 
to within twenty-five feet of the path on which 
they were walking. The bottom of the notch was 
filled with a dense growth of rhododendron and 
other evergreens. 

Carl Dexter suddenly spied an unusually 
beautiful cluster of blossoms. 

“ Look! ” he cried. 


216 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


The party stopped. 

“ I believe I can get them,” said Carl. 

The blossoms were hardly more than twenty 
feet above his head. The cliff just here was of 
the formation known as chimney rocks, and af- 
forded innumerable crevices and openings for 
hand and toe holds. Furthermore, the inclina- 
tion of the cliff just here was not quite so steep 
as at other points. At the top of the chimney 
rocks there seemed to be a sort of level platform 
on which a climber could get a firm foothold 
while plucking blossoms. 

“ I don’t believe you had better try it, Carl,” 
said Mr. Hardy. 

“ It ’s easy,” replied Carl. “ Anybody could 
climb that.” 

“ I don’t mean that you could n’t climb it,” 
answered Mr. Hardy, “ but I was thinking that 
if you should slip and fall, you would be badly 
hurt and perhaps killed. The ledge is so narrow 
here that it would never stop you and you would 
go clear into the river. You had better not go 
up, Carl.” 

“ I ’d like very much to have those flowers, 
Mr. Hardy. I have never picked a rhododen- 


CARL MEETS WITH ADVENTURE 217 


dron blossom in my life and I should like to see 
exactly what one is like.” 

“ What about it, Will?” said Mr. Hardy, 
turning to his colleague. 

“ We have to take a few chances for the sake 
of science,” replied Mr. Young with a laugh. 
“ He can make it all right.” 

So Carl started up. The climb really was 
easy. He had abundant finger and toe holds 
and the hard rock held firmly. The sun’s rays 
shone into every crevice, and even as Carl was 
climbing, a sunbeam filtered down through the 
foliage and fell on the little cluster of pink blos- 
soms, lighting them up like a guiding torch. 

It took Carl only a minute or two to climb 
within reach of the narrow, rocky platform. Just 
as he was reaching for this with his right hand, 
an overhanging twig caught his cap and nearly 
brushed it from his head. Carl grabbed for the 
cap and caught it. He took it off. The cap was 
in his way. He held it for a second as though 
puzzled, then tossed it upward to the little rock 
platform. Again he grasped the topmost rock 
with his right hand and drew himself up. As 
his eyes reached the level of the platform he 


218 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


started back and almost lost his foothold. On 
the edge of the platform, coiled and ready to 
strike, lay an enormous copperhead. Carl’s cap 
had struck and angered it. 

Instantly Carl snatched his right hand away 
from the top of the rock and leaned back as 
far as he could. He was badly frightened. He 
did not know what to do. He stood motionless, 
trying to think. It came to him that the slight- 
est movement on his paid would cause the snake 
to strike. He could not climb up. He dared 
not jump down. That was certain death. But 
he could not long hold himself motionless in such 
a difficult position. He did not even dare to 
speak. At first the campers below thought Carl 
had stopped in his climb merely to look at some- 
thing. Then they saw that he was holding him- 
self away from the rock. 

“ What ’s the trouble, Carl? ” called Mr. 
Hardy. 

There was no reply. 

Mr. Hardy stepped back along the path a few 
yards to obtain a view of the top of the platform. 
Then he saw the snake. Its head was raised 
several inches in air. At intervals it swayed a 


CARL MEETS WITH ADVENTURE 219 


little. For a copperhead it was enormous. Its 
body was as thick as a woman’s wrist. Its ugly 
triangular head was widely expanded. 

“Don’t move!” called Mr. Hardy in a low 
voice. 

Pie realized that one swift, darting blow of 
the sharp fangs meant death. The shock would 
almost certainly send Carl tumbling backward 
down the cliff. The others crowded about Mr. 
Hardy. For half a minute they stood as though 
paralyzed. No one knew what to do. Mute, 
breathless, they waited for something to happen. 

Then Carl showed the stuff he was made of. 
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his right hand be- 
gan to move downward. Inch by inch his hand 
crept toward his coat pocket. His body never 
stirred. All the while the snake lay coiled, still 
swaying its head, and awaiting only the slightest 
motion on Carl’s part to strike. A prematurely 
faded leaf fell from a tree above, fluttered down- 
ward, and dropped beside the serpent. There 
was an ominous move of the ugly head. Still 
the snake did not strike. Carl’s hand crept 
closer and closer to his pocket. The campers 
watched. They were puzzled. 


220 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ He ’s getting his pistol,” suddenly whispered 
Mr. Hardy. 

He was right. Carl’s hand disappeared under 
the flap of his pocket. Slowly, cautiously, almost 
imperceptibly, he drew it forth. Fie had his 
pistol — cocked. Fie had cocked it in his pocket. 
Now he began to raise his weapon upward in 
the same slow, gliding fashion by which he had 
gotten it. Inch by inch he raised his hand. From 
time to time the snake moved its head. It was 
still alert, still angry. To the campers below 
it seemed like many minutes before Carl had his 
pistol high enough to shoot. 

The danger was now increased. The snake 
noticed the pistol as it came upward within its 
line of vision. The snake was alarmed. Once 
it moved its head quickly as though about to 
strike. Carl’s heart stopped beating. But he 
kept his hand steady and slid the pistol higher 
and higher. The campers below dared not utter 
a sound. They could only stand and watch. 
They saw that Carl was drawing back from the 
rock as far as he possibly could. He was trying 
to aim. The pistol was barely up to the level of 
his chin. Could he shoot true in this cramped 


CARL MEETS WITH ADVENTURE 221 


position? The snake would strike with the fall 
of the trigger. The campers stood breathless. 

Once Carl was ready to fire. They could see 
his fingers move. The snake saw them too. It 
swayed its head. Carl dared not shoot. The 
snake became quiet again. Suddenly there was 
a flash. The pistol cracked. There was a thrash- 
ing sound on the ledge. An instant later a 
long brown body came tumbling over the edge 
of the rock, struck the ledge where the campers 
stood, bounded outward, and went whirling 
downward, to sink from sight beneath the shining 
waters. At the same instant Mr. Hardy’s voice 
rang out. 

“ Go on up! ” he cried. “ Go on up, Carl! ” 

Carl tossed his pistol ahead of him, drew him- 
self upward, and fell forward on the platform. 
In another instant Mr. Hardy was scrambling 
up the chimney rock to his aid. He found him 
completely unstrung. Carl attempted to get up. 

44 Just stay there awhile,” said Mr. Hardy. 

Then he made a rapid examination of the 
notch to see if other snakes might be near. Cop- 
perheads often travel in pairs. Presently he 
came back to Carl, who was already recovering. 


222 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ That was a wonderful shot, Carl,” said Mr. 
Hardy. “ How ’d you do it?” The camp 
leader was too wise to talk about the danger. 

Carl told how he had often practiced shooting 
from the hip and the side, just as the cowboys 
used to shoot. 

“ I had to aim altogether by guess,” said Carl. 
“ But I was so close to him and his head was so 
big I could n’t miss him.” 

“ It was a wonderful shot,” said Mr. Hardy. 

By this time Carl had nearly recovered his 
composure. 

“We ’ll go down now,” said Mr. Hardy. 
“ The others are waiting for us.” 

They started to descend. Suddenly Carl drew 
back. 

“ I came after that rhododendron blossom,” 
he said, “ and I ’m not going back without it.” 

He scrambled back and plucked the treasure. 
Then they climbed slowly backward down the 
chimney rock. Mr. Hardy stayed close beside 
Carl to support him if he slipped. But Carl had 
his nerve back now and was in no need of 
assistance. 

The party went on down the river to the 


CARL MEETS WITH ADVENTURE 223 


notch in the mountain where the robber caves 
were located. But they were destined to be dis- 
appointed. They found the site without trouble, 
but they found an opening very different from 
the one they had looked for. The owner of the 
land had opened a quarry just where the caves 
had been. Now there was nothing to see more 
romantic than a great hole in the cliff, with some 
machinery in it. 

The party went back to camp disappointed 
but not altogether dissatisfied with their jaunt. 
They had had a wonderful walk along the face 
of the cliff, and Carl’s adventure with the copper- 
head gave them something to talk about for a 
long time. Certainly it was becoming a more 
wonderful camp every day. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


AL JORDAN TELLS A STORY 

A T the camp fire one night soon after this A1 
Jordan, sitting on the selfsame cracker box 
on which the boys had first seen him, told the 
story of the great flood that carried away the 
house across the river from fisherman Jim’s. 

“ You never heerd such a roarin’ noise as there 
was when all them logs come downstream,” be- 
gan Al. “ You see, the water come up so sudden 
there was n’t nobody expectin’ it. So everything 
just floated off. There was logs by the millions, 
and piles of lumber as high as houses, and boats, 
and buildings, and trees, and pianos, and every- 
thing you could think of just come rampagin’ 
downstream, knockin’ together, batterin’ down 
houses and bridges, and gougin’ out the bank. 
I never heerd nothin’ like it. The old soldiers 
say the bombardment at Gettysburg was tame 
alongside of the noise of them poundin’ logs. 
They kept thumpin’ and poundin’ together till 
you could n’t hear a man shout two feet away. 


AL JORDAN TELLS A STORY 225 


“ Well, I lived along the river in a little cabin 
at that time. When I went to bed the river was 
high, but there was n’t nothin’ to indicate the 
flood that come next day. The water was n’t 
over the bank nowhere. We did n’t calculate it 
would raise much higher. But ’long about day- 
light I was woke up by the worst noise I ever 
heerd. I got up to look out and stepped into a 
foot of water. You bet I did n’t waste no time 
gettin’ out of that house. It was only a little 
board shack, and I knowed if the water got much 
higher, it would float off and me in it. I was n’t 
hankerin’ to go downstream in no such boat. So 
I grabbed a few things I could carry and struck 
out for dry land. I did n’t get out none too soon, 
neither, for the cabin soon floated off. I had to 
wade through water three feet deep to get ashore. 
The logs and trees kept bumpin’ into me. Once 
two logs caught my leg and I thought it was 
busted clean off.” 

“Is that the way you lost your foot, Al?” 
asked Roy. 

“ Well, I did n’t lose my foot that time,” an- 
swered Al evasively. “ Them logs only give me 
an awful pinch. They did n’t break no bones. 


226 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


But I tell you I was glad when I got up on the 
hill out of reach of any more logs.” 

“ Where was your cabin, AJ ? ” asked Henry. 

“ Oh, down in a low place, just below where 
you have your boats. It was just a summer 
shanty.” 

“ What about the house that was washed 
away? ” said George. 

“ Well, I was cornin’ to that,” continued Ad. 
“ When I waded ashore it was still dark. But 
pretty soon daylight come. There was n’t a foot 
of the river that was n’t filled with logs and other 
stuff. The drift covered the stream like a carpet. 
A fellow with a pair of calked shoes could have 
walked from bank to bank on the logs. There 
was houses, and lumber piles twenty feet high, 
and parts of bridges, and sheds, and henhouses, 
and barns, and boats, and everything that you 
could think of, all floatin’ downstream in one 
solid mass. The way them things kept a-grindin’ 
together and bumpin’ and rammin’ and roarin’ 
was something awful.” 

The big cook got to his feet and began to walk 
up and down before the fire. The recollection 
of the flood seemed to stir him deeply. His eyes 


AL JORDAN TELLS A STORY 227 


flashed, and he began to gesticulate wildly as he 
described the progress of the flood. 

“ Why, them logs just tried to crawl on top 
of one another,” he went on. “ They was like 
so many mad alligators. One of them would 
come shootin’ up out of the water headfirst and 
drop on the others with an awful crack. Then 
half a dozen would go end up and begin to 
batter one another. You ’d have thought they 
was alive the way they crawled about and 
jumped on each other and battered one another 
about. The noise was terrible. And the logs in 
the timber patch just across the river made so 
much noise batterin’ against the trees you ’d 
have thought a whole battle was goin’ on over 
there. The batterin’ of them trees and logs 
never stopped for a single minute. 

“ All the while them logs kept a-jabbin’ away 
at the bank, rubbin’ it and buttin’ it and jabbin’ 
it and leapin’ against it. They did n’t do much 
damage on this side ’cause the bank is mostly 
riprapped with stone. But over on the other 
shore they soon began to eat a big hole. There 
was n’t no rocks to protect the bank there. Every 
time a log would jam into the bank it took away 


228 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


a scoopful of sand. You could just see the bank 
crumble away before them logs. 

“ I soon see that the houses would be in danger 
if the river rose any more. There was the big 
farmhouse and the barn and a little tenant house 
behind it, some distance upstream. They was 
all near the river bank, and the logs kept eat in’ 
out the bank at an awful rate. After awhile 
the water got up over the shore. You could n’t 
see how the bank was standin’ it. But I knowed 
it was goin’ fast. The logs was piled up some- 
times six feet deep. All the bottom logs was 
fightin’ to get on top, and the top ones was slidin’ 
down to the bottom. And all the time they 
was grindin’ out the bank and the water was 
washin’ it away as fast as the logs dug it up. 

“ Nobody thought the water would get so 
high, but it kept raisin’ hour after hour. The 
people that lived in the house took all their 
things and put them in the second story. There 
was a kitchen that had been built on to the house, 
and they figured that would go sure ; but nobody 
believed the house would go. So they took their 
things upstairs and then went off to stay with 
a neighbor till the flood went down. 


AL JORDAN TELLS A STORY 229 


“ The water got higher and higher. Pretty 
soon the river was a roarin’ lake that stretched 
from the foothills of Bald Eagle almost to the 
foot of this here rock wall. First thing you 
know you could see the old house movin’. The 
water was so high it lifted it clean off its founda- 
tions. And after awhile it tore the house loose 
from the kitchen and took it downstream. Yes, 
sir, there was that big two-story house floatin’ 
down with the current and that little kitchen 
buildin’ left standin’ in its tracks. You never 
would have believed it.” 

“ What became of the house? ” asked George. 

“ It floated downstream for more than a dozen 
miles,” answered Al. “ Then it got into an eddy 
and drifted up into a field, where it stranded. It 
was right side up, but tilted to one side.” 

“ Did the owners get their property back? ” 
asked Roy. 

“Yes,” said Al, “after they paid the owner 
of the field damages for trespass. What do you 
think of that? The farmer that owned that 
field would n’t let them go near their house until 
they paid him damages. Did you ever hear of 
anything as mean as that? ” 


230 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Al’s eyes blazed with indignation. He shook 
his fist threateningly downstream. 

“ No, sir,” he continued, “ he would n’t let 
them sufferin’ shipwrecked people that had lost 
everything they owned get a single stick of their 
furniture or stuff till they paid him for tres- 
passin’ on his fields.” 

None of the campers had ever seen a big flood, 
but their knowledge of how the little creek at 
Central City rose in the spring helped them to 
understand the awfulness of this catastrophe. 
They were full of questions. Finally Robert 
asked how often floods occurred in the Muncy 
valley. 

“ I can answer that,” said Mr. Hardy. “ The 
Indians had a tradition that a big flood came 
every fourteen years, when the waters rose six or 
seven feet higher than the usual spring freshets. 
And for a long time it looked as though the 
Indian tradition were well founded. The first 
big flood on record that the white men observed 
was in 1744. For three quarters of a century 
after that great floods came regularly at four- 
teen-year intervals. Then as the forests began 
to grow thinner, the floods came oftener. There 


AL JORDAN TELLS A STORY 231 


were six disastrous floods in less than thirty 
years. Since 1892 there have been several bad 
floods, though the flood of 1889 still holds the 
record. 

“ It is the destruction of the forests that is 
largely responsible for these awful catastrophes. 
The roots of the trees used to hold back a large 
part of the water, and they protected the river 
banks as well. Now there are few trees to hold 
the flood waters back, and the rushing current 
carries away yearly hundreds of acres of farm 
lands. 

“ The flood A1 was telling you about was that 
of 1892. I want to tell you something about the 
flood of 1889, because I want you to know why 
A1 was so impressed by the rush of logs in the 
river. That flood was the worst that ever swept 
this valley. It occurred at the same time that 
the great Johnstown flood did, and both were 
occasioned by the same two-day downpour of 
rain. When the people of this valley woke up 
on the morning of the third day, June first, this 
valley was just as A1 has described it, with water 
reaching from Bald Eagle to this very hillside. 
In the center of this great sheet of water the 


232 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


main current swept along a thousand feet wide, 
carrying houses, barns, furniture, bridges, lum- 
ber, and logs by the millions. This mass was 
swept along at ten or twelve miles an hour, and 
how fast it went in the rifts no man knows. 

“ Up at the end of Bald Eagle Mountain the 
flood swept away whole farms, just as it took the 
land A1 has been telling you about. One man 
lost ten acres, another twenty, another fifty, an- 
other sixty-eight, and so on. You can go up to 
the end of the mountain now and you will find a 
great tract of barren land on which nothing will 
grow. Once that land was green with crops, for 
the region contained some of the richest farms in 
the whole valley. To-day the place is a great 
stone pile. The soil was all swept away in that 
awful flood, leaving the earth’s bare bones as 
mute witnesses of the disaster. 

“But what I wanted most to tell you about 
was how A1 became impressed by the logs. I 
was going to say, how A1 became afraid of logs. 
But A1 is n’t any more afraid of logs than you 
are of sparrows. Only he knows now what they 
can do. But he ’d go right out among them 
again if need arose.” 


AL JORDAN TELLS A STORY 233 


“Did he get caught by logs?” asked Roy, 
who began to scent an adventure. 

“ Indeed he did,” answered Mr. Hardy, “ and 
this is how he came to be caught. When the 
river got over its banks, the logs began to jam 
under the old wooden railway bridge that pre- 
ceded the present steel structure. There were 
logs and lumber piles that had been floated off 
without ever disturbing a stick, and there were 
buildings and trees. But mostly it was logs. 
There were millions of them. They jammed 
under the railroad bridge and began to dam the 
water back. All the while they were working up 
and down, writhing in the swift current, sawing 
back and forth, but they could n’t get loose. The 
new logs kept piling up on top of the old ones, 
or jamming in underneath them, until there was 
a solid jam of timber that stretched upstream 
for hundreds of yards. 

“ Everybody knew that unless this jam could 
be broken the bridge would be swept away. It 
was just a matter of time. And it did n’t appear 
as though any human agency could ever move 
the logs. There were lumbermen a-plenty in the 
town, men who were used to handling logs and 


234 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


breaking up jams, but never one of them would 
venture an effort against that log jam. They 
said it meant sure death. So things stood, with 
everybody crowded along the water’s edge wait- 
ing for the bridge to go, when A1 came along. 
A1 took a good look at the log jam. He saw a 
movement among the logs under the third span. 

“ ‘ Give me a peavey,’ he said, and picking up 
a cant hook and an axe, he started toward the 
middle of the river. They tried to hold him 
back, but A1 shook them off. He could n’t travel 
on the bridge because it was covered and there 
was no way to get out on the logs. So he 
jumped out on the jam and went leaping from 
one log to another out to the third span. 

“ Fie was on the downstream side of the bridge, 
at the downstream edge of the jam. If the 
bridge went, it was sure death for Al. And if 
he started the logs, it was about the same thing. 
There was no way for him to get out. He knew 
that. But he went to the edge of the jam and 
started to work, picking out one log after an- 
other and cutting out the logs that he could n’t 
roll. Al made quite a hole in the jam. He had 
been at work a couple of hours, perhaps, when 


AL JORDAN TELLS A STORY 23 5 


the whole mass of logs began to move. They 
groaned and writhed like a man in agony. 
Everybody shouted for A1 to come ashore. He 
could n’t hear them, and he would n’t have come 
if he had heard them. Rut he heard the move- 
ment of the logs and stopped working long 
enough to take a look at the mass. There was 
this wall of logs a thousand feet wide and hun- 
dreds of yards long just squirming about, trying 
to get at him. And before A1 knew what hap- 
pened they had him. 

“ The bridge slid off its foundations, the jam 
of logs gave one awful roar and began to shoot 
between the stone piers, and in a second A1 was 
swimming for his life in the midst of a million 
logs. He had about as much chance for his life 
as a mouse has in a mill hopper. The logs were 
cracking together in a way that would have 
smashed him to a pancake if he had been caught 
between them. A1 knew that his only chance 
was to get up on top of a log. He managed to 
do it, and then started for shore, jumping from 
log to log. He had on calked shoes, so he did n’t 
slip, but the logs were rolling over and over and 
sawing up and down as they fought one another. 


236 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


It was mighty ticklish business, and only his 
great experience with logs enabled A1 to keep 
on top of the pack. 

“ He kept on dodging and jumping and 
scrambling from log to log, until it really looked 
as though he were going to get ashore. In fact 
he got within seventy-five yards of the shore 
when the log to which he had just jumped was 
suddenly shot upward by the pressure below, and 
A1 went headforemost into the river. Fie came 
to the surface safely, hitting an open spot as 
miraculously as he had the first time, and was 
trying to climb on another log when that one 
too gave a heave, and again A1 went down. A 
log hit him on the head and almost stunned him. 
At the same instant two logs came together head 
on, catching Al’s leg between them. Something 
bore them down to the bottom, and A1 was 
dragged down underneath the pack with them. 
He does n’t know to this day how he got loose. 
He was too nearly stunned to know. But he 
finally found himself free. He had just strength 
enough left to fight his way to the surface, where 
he hit another open spot, and throw an arm 
over a log. After that he knew nothing. 


AL JORDAN TELLS A STORY 237 


“ But I know what happened. The men on 
the bank had run downstream opposite A1 as he 
was struggling to get ashore. They saw him go 
down and they saw him come up. The logs that 
had bucked and upset A1 had swung into an 
eddy, and when A1 came to the surface, he was 
within forty yards of the shore and out of the 
current. Here the logs were floating around in 
a circle. There was a boat handy on the shore, 
and the men on the bank grabbed it and fought 
their way through the logs to Al. When they 
lifted him out, his cheek was laid open and his 
leg was gone. It had been pinched clear off by 
the impact of those two logs. Somebody had 
the presence of mind to tie a strip of his shirt 
around AFs leg, and that is why we have a live 
cook with us to-day instead of a dead hero to 
talk about.” 

Mr. Hardy turned toward Al, his face beam- 
ing with the great affection he held in his heart 
for this rugged son of toil. 

“ Yes, boys, he added, “ we have a live cook 
and a live hero as well. I want you all to know 
what a remarkable man your fellow camper is.” 

Al’s face turned red even under its coat of tan. 


238 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


He was not accustomed to such praise. But his 
embarrassment was the embarrassment of pleas- 
ure rather than of annoyance. The boys came 
crowding about him w r ith a thousand questions. 
He was unschooled in the finer arts of conversa- 
tion and hardly knew how to meet this sudden 
turn in the talk. So he merely growled, 
“ ’T was n’t nothin’. Mr. Hardy has just been 
tellin’ you that to make a good story.” 

But the campers knew, every one of them, that 
Mr. Hardy had told them a good deal less than 
the whole truth. And from that moment they 
thought of A1 in a new light. Their admiration 
had changed to affection. They had come to 
understand that a real hero was of necessity just 
like A1 — simple, kindly, sincere, modest to a 
fault. They saw heroism in a new light. They 
understood for the first time that heroism is sim- 
ply great love expressing itself in doing some- 
thing for others. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE SWIMMING TESTS 

fJpHE boys had now been in camp a full three 
weeks, and there remained only one week 
more of their stay at Camp Brady. The crown- 
ing event of their summer’s experiences was to 
be the canoe voyage downstream. 

But before they could embark, each boy, as 
you will recall, had first to prove himself as a 
swimmer. With the canoe trip as an incentive, 
every boy in camp had applied himself diligently. 
The daily swimming practice had been more than 
a mere splashing in the water, with fun and 
shouting. Every boy had had to do his daily 
swim for distance, his regular battle against the 
current to gain stamina, his daily swim under 
water, and his systematic practice in diving. 

Moreover, each had had his regular turns at 
handling a canoe. Long ago the campers had 
paired off in crews of two and learned to handle 
their canoes accordingly. These various crews 


£40 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


were made up largely according to the size of the 
canoeists, two boys of similar size forming a 
crew. Mr. Hardy had advised this because he 
said the canoes would be better balanced and 
better handled if boys of equal size and strength 
worked together. 

This had proved to be a happy arrangement 
from every point of view. Roy and Johnnie 
were, of course, inseparable. They were of about 
the same age and size, and so naturally made one 
crew. Both were full of sand, both were quick 
with their wits and their muscles, and they made 
a team that even the older boys had to respect. 

Henry Harper and Lem Haskins were the 
largest boys in camp, and they formed a second 
team. They made a good combination. Lem 
had changed greatly in the short time since Lew 
was bitten by the copperhead, and every boy in 
camp saw and admired his fight against his old 
self. Henry Harper was so much older in his 
way of thinking that he understood and appre- 
ciated Lem’s struggles better than any of the 
others. Henry’s nature made him want to help 
others, and he had come to feel a brotherly in- 
terest in Lem. The latter recognized that, and 


THE SWIMMING TESTS 


241 


it drew him to Henry. So these two became 
daily closer and closer friends. Their associa- 
tion as canoe mates merely added to their grow- 
ing feeling of friendship. 

Between Alec and Jimmy had also grown up 
a feeling of genuine affection — one of those 
strange relationships that are often born of com- 
mon peril. Ever since the day they had been 
swamped in front of fisherman Jim’s they had 
been inseparable. So they made a third canoe 
team. Alec had early instructed Jimmy in the 
finer points of handling a canoe, and the two 
now made what was probably the most skillful 
team in camp, though Henry and Lem were a 
stronger team. 

Carl and Lew made a fourth team. Mr. 
Hardy had decided that Robert Martin and 
Willie Brown should make a team. That left 
George Larkin and Charlie Russell for the sixth 
crew. The camp leaders occupied the seventh 
boat. 

For by this time the campers had a full com- 
plement of canoes. They had brought only four, 
but in anticipation of the trip down river Mr. 
Hardy had borrowed three other canoes from 


242 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


friends in Muncy. These had been borrowed 
for one week each, so the campers now had their 
full seven canoes. 

Mr. Hardy’s main interest was in the long dis- 
tance, under water, and upstream swims. He 
wanted to see whether or not the boys were pre- 
pared to take care of themselves in case of dis- 
aster; for he had many times made the trip down 
river and knew that at certain points it would 
take skillful handling of the canoes to keep them 
right side up. If they upset, he wanted to be 
sure the boys could take care of themselves. 

The first test was an under-water swim from 
the wharf. Each boy dived off and swam as 
far under water as he could. The swimmers 
were not required to go any given distance, but 
merely to show that they knew how to handle 
themselves under water. Of course every boy 
swam as far as he could, and each one of the 
swimmers put many yards between himself and 
the wharf before his head bobbed up. Every 
boy made a good showing, but it remained for 
Robert Martin to do the remarkable. In fact he 
did it so well that he frightened the campers. 

Robert was an expert swimmer for a boy of 


THE SWIMMING TESTS 


243 


his age. He was bulky and almost clumsy on 
land, but in the water he could get about like a 
porpoise. He seemed to go along as easily as 
a fish, and he never tired. Now he took a good 
breath, dived headlong, and disappeared. The 
campers began to speculate as to where he would 
come up. Charley Russell had gone the farthest 
up to this time. 

44 He ’ll beat you, Charley,” cried Roy. 

44 Sure! He’s a whale,” answered Charley. 

44 Bet he does n’t,” yelled George Larkin. 

44 Bet you he will,” retorted Roy. 

By this time Robert should have appeared — 
at least so it seemed to the campers. Everybody 
stood still, watching anxiously. It seemed as 
though minutes went by, but still no head ap- 
peared. Then there was a swirl far out in the 
stream, a head shot up, and a deep gasp for 
breath could be heard. The swimmer shook the 
water from his head and turned toward the 
shore. He had made a tremendous swim. 

44 You were down so long you frightened us,” 
said Mr. Hardy as Robert came ashore. 44 But 
it was a wonderful swim. How did you do it? ” 

The answer was lost in the chorus of shouts 


244 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


that went up from Robert’s admiring fellows. 
“You may be a lobster on land, but you ’re a 
regular whale in the water,” was Roy’s back- 
handed way of complimenting Robert. 

The swim upstream followed next. Each boy 
was required to go fifty yards. The current was 
not faster than a mile an hour just here. Each 
of the boys made the required distance without 
trouble, though to do so took some of them quite 
awhile. But the test showed that the swimmers 
had all acquired stamina in their three weeks of 
practice. 

Lastly came the test in which everybody was 
most interested. Mr. Hardy had told the boys 
at the start that nobody could go on the canoe 
trip who could not swim half the width of the 
river. That meant a swim of at least a hundred 
and fifty yards. The older boys were very cer- 
tain they could make it. The smaller ones were 
not so confident. But the spirit of the camp was 
in every one of them. They meant to do it or 
die. And in three weeks of camp they had come 
to believe with Henry that, if you really want to 
do a thing, you can do it. In that belief all had 
been practicing diligently, but now that the test 


THE SWIMMING TESTS 


245 


was at hand they were not so confident. None 
the less each one was resolved to do his best. 

Mr. Hardy went to the middle of the river 
and anchored his canoe. That was to be the 
starting point. Mr. Young took the boys out 
one at a time in another canoe and paddled be- 
side them as they swam. With the water eight 
feet deep, the camp leaders were taking no 
chances. 

Henry was the first to make the try. He was 
a strong swimmer and could easily have gone 
twice the distance. The other big boys also 
made the swim without difficulty. Everybody 
was interested in Lem Haskins’ test. Lem was 
one of the two boys who could not swim when 
he came to camp. But under the guidance of 
the camp leaders, Lem had quickly grasped the 
principles of swimming and had developed 
rapidly. His muscles, naturally strong, had 
been disciplined in the new exercise by daily 
practice. In short he was one of those boys who 
possess all the powers for doing a thing except 
that of knowing how. Once he had learned how, 
the rest came naturally. Now he swam easily, 
with powerful strokes, with full confidence in 


246 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


himself. The boys watched him intently. They 
knew that Lem would make it. They realized 
that Lem was a boy who was finding himself. 
He had found his manhood, and all the rest fol- 
lowed as a matter of course. Certainly Camp 
Brady had done wonderful things for Lem! 

Roy Mercer next tried the test. There was 
never any question as to Roy’s ability as a 
swimmer, but nobody knew how far he could 
swim. Roy and Willie Brown were the smallest 
boys in camp. If Roy could make it, the others 
were sui'e they could. Roy made it without diffi- 
culty. He used his head, swimming slowly and 
drifting slightly with the current and landing a 
little below the wharf. But he came in fresh as 
a daisy. And just to show that he wasn’t fa- 
tigued he gave a whoop, ran back to the wharf, 
and dived over. He swam under water farther 
than he had in his under-water test. Then he 
came back laughing and happy. He knew he 
could go on the canoe trip. 

Johnnie Lee followed and made the distance 
easily. Like Roy, he came diagonally with the 
current, saving his strength. Then came George. 
He made it all right. Lew Heinsling and Jimmy 


THE SWIMMING TESTS 


247 


Donnelly and Charley Russell followed. There 
was no question about the ability of any of the 
others except little Willie Brown. Everybody 
was wondering if Willie could make it. 

Willie answered the question when his turn 
came by diving off the wharf instead of getting 
into the canoe with Mr. Young. Day after day 
Willie had been practicing swimming along the 
shore while the others played. He knew he could 
make it. The boys had always teased Willie be- 
cause he lacked confidence in himself. Indeed 
there had been reason for their taunts. Yet that 
had made them none the more pleasant to Willie. 
Now he had found something he could do. Best 
of all he knew he could do it. The way in which 
he had acquired confidence in himself as a swim- 
mer was wonderful. Doubt had given place to 
absolute assurance. And his confidence in this 
one ability was affecting Willie powerfully. He 
was beginning to feel confidence in himself along 
other lines. In short, like Lem, he too was find- 
ing himself. With this new confidence came an 
overwhelming desire to prove his ability, to show 
the other boys that they were wrong about him, 
to prove that he was just as able as they were. 


248 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


And he had made up his mind to do it in the 
swimming test. 

So when he dived off the wharf instead of 
getting into Mr. Young’s waiting canoe, he had 
his plan already thought out. He paid no atten- 
tion to Mr. Young’s call to get into the canoe, 
but struck out bravely for the canoe in mid- 
stream. Mr. Young did not bother him with a 
second call, but swept his paddle in the water 
and followed close on Willie’s heels. Willie 
swam slowly but strongly. He had to fight the 
current a little going out, in order to reach the 
moored canoe, so he swam quartering, heading 
slightly upstream. He used an overhand stroke 
and got a splendid drive out of every kick. 
Paddling so close behind him, Mr. Young was 
able to study Willie’s movements carefully. Fie 
was surprised and pleased at the clean, skillful 
strokes the lad was making. 

“ By George! ” he muttered to himself, “ that 
boy is going to make a swimmer.” 

Willie forged ahead, smoothly and easily. 
He reached the starting boat almost as quickly 
as any of the others had swum the distance. 
But instead of grasping the craft and trying to 


THE SWIMMING TESTS 


249 


climb out, he circled it and headed back for shore. 
Mr. Young swung his boat about in surprise. 

“ That kid ’s got stuff in him,” he said to Mr. 
Hardy, then followed close in Willie’s wake. 

Willie kept on with his clean overhand stroke 
a little longer, then switched to a breast stroke. 
Mr. Young saw that he was tiring, and kept the 
canoe close at hand. Willie swam a little dis- 
tance with the breast stroke, then rolled over on 
his back, and simply paddled with his hands. 
His strength came back quickly, and once more 
he struck out for shore with his vigorous over- 
hand stroke. He was going with the current 
now and fostering his strength. He made the 
remaining distance without once changing his 
stroke, though he was very tired when he 
landed. 

“ I feel as though I could do anything now,” 
said Willie as he waded ashore and sat down 
to rest. 

“You can,” said Mr. Young. “Don’t ever 
forget that. You can do anything you want to 
do, if you want to do it bad enough.” Then he 
continued: “ That was a very wonderful swim, 
Willie. I congratulate you on it,” 


250 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Willie got up and rejoined the others at the 
wharf. They greeted him with a whoop. 

“ Who said Willie could n’t swim? ” cried Roy 
as he slapped Willie on the back. 

“ You ’re a wonder, Willie,” said Johnnie. 
“ How ’d you do it anyhow? ” 

Everybody had something to say in praise of 
Willie’s swim. Willie was almost embarrassed 
by their praises, but at the same time he was 
wonderfully happy. Their praises were very 
sweet to him. Willie knew that the boys w r ould 
never again taunt him because he couldn’t do 
things. He had their respect now and he had 
earned it. Certainly Camp Brady had done no 
less for Willie than it had for Lem. 

Soon the tests were ended and the canoes tied 
up for the night. “ I guess you ’ll do,” said Mr. 
Hardy with an approving smile as he led the 
way up to camp. “We ’ll start for Columbia 
to-morrow.” 


CHAPTER XX 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA IN CANOES 

QAMP BRADY was astir the next morning 
long before the usual time. A1 had been 
instructed to get an early breakfast, and he was 
up at daybreak. Presently Roy, who was a fox 
terrier anyway, heard the big cook moving about. 
Roy was wide-awake in an instant. Then he 
remembered that it was the day for the canoe 
trip. Roy gave a war whoop that would have 
startled a real Indian. It scared sleepy Johnnie 
into the widest possible wakefulness and brought 
everybody else tumbling out of bed in a hurry. 
In an instant Camp Brady was the scene of 
great activity. 

While A1 was finishing preparations for break- 
fast, the campers were getting the duffle ready 
for the journey. There was not much of this, 
but what there was had to be carefully divided 
and packed for convenience in carrying. Each 
boy was to take his heavy blanket, his palouser, 


252 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


and his camp knife. Each was to wear a flannel 
shirt and a broad-brimmed hat. Axes, hatchets, 
cooking utensils, the necessary dishes (only tin 
ones were taken) , food, and the first-aid kit made 
up the bulk of the luggage. These articles were 
packed in several small boxes and bags of con- 
venient size for handling, and distributed evenly 
among the various canoes. Thus each boat car- 
ried one box or bag of duffle, with the blankets 
and coats of the crew. The camp leaders also 
slipped their pistols into their pockets. They 
carried as well the funds for the entire party. 

Breakfast was ready before the duffle was 
entirely packed. The boys fell to with a will, 
and Al’s steaming viands soon disappeared. 
Then the necessary dishes were washed and 
added to the packs, the various bundles com- 
pleted and stowed in the boats, and with a cheer 
for Al, who was left to care for the camp, the 
boys of Camp Brady shoved off from the shore 
and started downstream in a long line, with Alec 
and Jimmy ahead as pathfinders and the camp 
leaders as the rear guard, where they could over- 
see every movement. The orders were for each 
canoe to keep its appointed place in line and to 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 253 


stay within twenty-five yards of the canoe ahead. 
This was to keep the boats from straggling. 

Nature must have known in advance that the 
Camp Brady boys were going on a journey on 
this particular day. Never was a morning more 
beautiful. The sun had hardly more than topped 
the ridge behind the camp when the little flotilla 
shoved off. The cool of the early morning was 
still pleasantly noticeable. The mists on the 
river had not yet dissipated. The wind was still 
quiet and the unruffled surface of the stream was 
flecked with myriads of foam clots — children of 
the rapids that would presently disappear under 
the hot sun. The mountains below were mir- 
rored distinctly in the river’s unbroken surface. 
The birds were calling to one another cheerily. 
It seemed as though everything was happy and 
care free and beautiful. With joyous shouts the 
paddlers hailed one another, and their shouts 
were flung back by the wooded hills and echoed 
and reechoed. But their cries did not seem dis- 
cordant. They seemed to blend with the rest 
of nature’s glad chorus, and the camp leaders 
smiled approval at their happy charges. 

Alec had been instructed to take it easy. The 


254 IN CAMP AT FORT READY 


days journey was to be more than twenty miles, 
and though it was all with the current, the camp 
leaders knew that long before the day was over 
legs would be cramped and arms tired, even at 
the easiest of paces. Alec felt all the thrill and 
ardor of the moment and wanted to “ cut loose.” 
But Alec was by this time too good a soldier not 
to obey orders. Besides, he realized that as path- 
finder he was responsible for bringing the party 
to camp safe and sound — and that meant in 
good shape for another day’s paddling. So he 
bravely put aside the desire to try a sprint, and 
led the party at an easy, swinging pace that 
would have done credit to an old voyager. 

The channel was near the Camp Brady side 
of the river, so Alec kept within fifty yards of 
the shore. The party reached fisherman Jim’s 
in no time. The old fellow was standing in the 
door of his cabin. He waved a friendly greeting 
and the boys answered with the Camp Brady 
cheer. 

Below fisherman Jim’s rose the steep cliff 
where Carl had faced the copperhead. This 
great hill now completely hid the sun and sent 
grateful shadows half across the river. Already 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 255 


the campers were getting hot, and Alec led the 
way into this shade with a feeling of pleasure. 
How grateful it was! The great gray rocks, 
still damp with dew, looked cool and attractive. 

A mile and a half below Carl’s chimney rock 
the party came to the remains of an old dam. 
Three quarters of a century ago, when traffic 
canals were first being used in this country, this 
dam was built to provide water for a canal that 
here entered the river. But after the railroads 
were built this canal was no longer used. So the 
dam had first fallen into decay and then been 
destroyed by the owners to get the timber in it. 
The foundations remained, however, and still 
raised the upstream water some two or three feet. 
It was this backed-up water that covered the 
Warrior’s Spring and made the current so gentle 
at Camp Brady. 

Just below the dam was a long stretch of shoal, 
now covered with summer growths of green. 
Years ago, as Mr. Hardy had already told the 
boys, this shoal had been a high island of seven 
or eight acres. Here the pioneers had a famous 
shad fishery, for before the Susquehanna was 
obstructed by dams shad swam clear to the head- 


256 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


waters annually to spawn. At this fishery early 
settlers had caught as many as twenty-five hun- 
dred shad at one haul of a seine. But those wise 
settlers always threw the roe shad back into the 
river and so insured a plentiful supply of fish for 
the future. As the campers neared the broken 
dam and the little shoal they remembered this 
story and saw anew evidence of the terrible 
power of floods. Upstream they had seen where 
broad acres of the mainland had been washed 
away- Here they saw where a great island had 
vanished before the awful rush of the swollen 
river. 

The river was pouring over the broken dam 
in a fierce little torrent, but Alec easily found 
an opening where the water appeared safe and 
led the way through it. He had judged cor- 
rectly, and the canoes shot, one after another, 
through this opening into the smooth water 
below. 

Here the current continued its quickened way. 
Soon the voyagers passed the little town of 
Montgomery, which could be seen so plainly 
from Camp Brady*. They saw a little creek, 
beautiful beneath arching trees, that here poured 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 257 


its contribution into the River of Shining Water, 
as the Indians called the larger stream in their 
word Susquehanna. This tributary was the 
Black Hole Creek, so reminiscent in its name 
of those early, dark days of struggle and priva- 
tion. Below this lay Penny Hill, as a sort of 
frame or background for Montgomery, while 
the Muncy Hills still towered aloft on their own 
side of the river. 

Very wonderful was the Susquehanna now, 
with its deep pools and sparkling shallows, its 
placid reaches and rushing rapids. Frequent 
islands begemmed it. These were overgrown 
with trees, mostly water birches along the banks 
and hardwoods in the interiors, and so had been 
able to withstand the floods. They were very 
beautiful. Prosperous farms dotted the land- 
scape and little hamlets appeared at intervals. 
White Deer Hole Creek was passed. A few 
miles below the party came to White Deer Creek. 
Here Mr. Hardy gave the signal to stop. The 
party had come ten miles or more and everybody 
was hot and tired. The wide, smooth mouth of 
the tributary, shaded by rows of great, over- 
arching trees, looked very inviting indeed. Alec 


258 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


was glad enough to turn his prow into this wel- 
coming harbor. In a few minutes seven canoes 
were drawn up on the bank and the party were 
stretched out luxuriantly on the grass. They in- 
tended to eat their dinner and wait till the heat 
of day was past before voyaging further. 

The afternoon’s run was without incident. 
When the sun began to slip down the western 
side of the sky, Alec led the party forth, well 
rested and eager to proceed. The flotilla passed 
several towns. Just below the largest of these 
towns a bold headland jutted out on the western 
bank. Mr. Hardy signaled to the canoes to 
close up, and when the seven craft had come 
together, he pointed to this headland. 

“ This is a part of the very first farm sold in 
Buffalo valley by the Penns,” he said. “ Its 
first owner was a settler named Michael Wie- 
land. He got his farm in 1769 and moved here 
with his family. Other settlers came, and in a 
few years scattered cabins could be seen along 
the river from what is now Sunbury up as far 
as the present city of Williamsport. You have 
all read of the Wyoming massacre, during the 
Revolution, when a force of British and Indians 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 259 


led by Sir William Johnson descended upon that 
little settlement on the other branch of the Sus- 
quehanna and massacred the settlers in cold 
blood, after the latter had surrendered under a 
promise of protection. That was in 1779. The 
massacre incited the Indians to the most awful 
deeds, and the scattered settlers throughout this 
entire region had to flee for their lives. 

“ By this time old Michael Wieland was dead, 
but his son Michael and a companion, John 
Bashor, tried to escape downstream in a canoe. 
Almost at this very spot the Indians fired upon 
them as they were paddling away. Bashor was 
killed outright. Young Wieland was shot 
through the jaw, but he kept on paddling 
and got away. 

“ Down the river fled all the dwellers in this 
whole Susquehanna Valley. They came in ca- 
noes, in flatboats, in anything at all that would 
float. The woods were full of Indians and their 
only safety was on the river. The settlers left 
their homes, their cattle, their household goods 
• — everything that they had, in fact — and fled 
down the Susquehanna as fast as they could go. 
Some of them later came back. Some never re- 


260 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 

turned, and so lost the fruits of their labor in 
clearing the wilderness.” 

“Did Michael Wieland come back? ” asked 
George Larkin. 

“ Not for many years,” answered Mr. Hardy. 
“ He had been a soldier in the Continental Army 
and was home on a furlough at the time of the 
Great Runaway, as this flight was called. He 
went back to the army to help Washington.” 

The party now proceeded downstream again. 
A few miles farther they came to Buffalo Creek, 
which drains the great Buffalo Valley, that is so 
called because it is the easternmost point at 
which the American bison were found. Here 
the town of Lewisburg is located. The boys set 
up a cry of recognition as the college hill came 
into view at the lower end of the town. 

Two miles downstream Alec, following Mr. 
Hardy’s directions, headed for the east bank of 
the river. Suddenly he came upon the broad 
mouth of another tributary. It was the Chillis- 
quaque Creek — “ the Place of the Snowbirds.” 
Alec led the little flotilla up this beautiful stream 
for two or three hundred yards, where, at Mr. 
Hardy’s order, the canoes were drawn up on the 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 261 


north bank and camp established in an open field 
under an enormous hickory tree. 

Rich farm lands extended up and down the 
river. Inland at a distance of half a mile rose 
Mount Montour, so called after Andrew Mon- 
tour, a half-breed trapper and guide who served 
the pioneers well, giving them many a timely 
warning of Indian forays. 

Now came a cooling swim. Supper was soon 
over and driftwood was piled on the flames. 
But the voyagers were too sleepy to care about a 
camp fire. Twenty miles of paddling had made 
them ready “ to hit the hay,” as Roy put it, and 
darkness had hardly descended before twelve 
tired boys were asleep on the soft turf under the 
hickory tree, snugly wrapped in their blankets. 
Lightning was flashing in the western skies and 
the dull rumble of thunder could be heard by the 
time the camp leaders sought their places under 
the hickory; but the storm did not come near 
the little party at the foot of old Montour. 

Again an early start was made next morning, 
though this time the campers were not quite so 
blithesome. Twenty miles of paddling had left 
every one of them with muscles a little sore. 


262 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


But Alec led the way slowly and this stiffness 
soon wore off. Two beautiful islands were 
passed, on both of which were comfortable sum- 
mer cottages. The cottagers gave the boys a 
friendly hail and received a cheer in return. 

Up to this point no difficulty had been ex- 
perienced, although the river was very low. Now 
great shoals began to bother the canoeists and 
submerged ledges of rock made progress diffi- 
cult. There was hardly water enough to navi- 
gate. Several times the boys had to step over- 
board and pull their canoes over the shallow 
places. They peeled their shoes and stockings 
off and were glad of the excuse to get into the 
cool water. 

Soon they came to enormous railroad shops 
and freight yards on the left. This was the new 
Pennsylvania Railroad yard at Northumberland. 
Just across the stream a towering cliff rose al- 
most straight up. Mr. Hardy directed the boys 
to a certain part of the river, from which, look- 
ing upward, they could distinctly see a great 
stone face projecting from the brow of the hill. 

“ This promontory is known as Shikelimy,” 
said Mr. Hardy, “ after one of the most famous 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 263 


chieftains of the Six Nations. The stone face 
yonder is called Shikelimy’s face. That wise 
chieftain ruled over all this region in the days 
when the white men were first coming. He was 
friendly to them, and as long as he lived the 
Indians dared not murder and scalp the white 
men. Shikelimy dwelt in the Indian village of 
Shamokin, which was just yonder, where now 
stands the city of Sunbury.” 

The campers were coming straight toward a 
city. Apparently the river ended abruptly here. 
In a few minutes they swept under a bridge and 
then they understood. They had reached the 
mouth of the West Branch, which here joins the 
North Branch at a right angle, like the stem to 
a capital letter T. The junction of the two 
rivers formed a magnificent stream three quar- 
ters of a mile in width. 

“ Over there,” said Mr. Hardy, for the canoes 
had advanced in close formation, “ was old Fort 
Augusta.” He pointed to the Sunbury shore. 
“ It was built, as you will notice, so as to com- 
mand both branches of the river. It was the 
most important frontier fort in all this region. 
It was from Fort Augusta, you will recall, that 


264 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


Colonel Hartley started on the trip to destroy 
Tioga. He returned along the North Branch. 
In 1756 the French and Indians came down our 
branch of the river to try to capture Fort 
Augusta. But when they got up on top of 
Shikelimy Hill and saw what a strong place the 
fort was, they started back without ever firing 
a shot. They had a cannon which impeded their 
flight greatly. When they reached a certain 
deep pool in the river some miles above Camp 
Brady, they threw their cannon overboard. To 
this day the place is known as the cannon hole.” 

The party were now floating on the broad 
bosom of the Big River, as the stream is known 
by river folk after the junction of the two 
branches. They passed under the railroad 
bridge, over which they had come on their way 
from Central City, under a great driving bridge, 
and came presently to another broken dam. 
They shot the rapids formed by the dam, with- 
out difficulty, and soon found themselves in a 
wonderful chain of islands. The mountains rose 
on either hand, abruptly to the left, at a little 
distance from the shore on the right. Houses 
were few in number. It began to seem like the 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 265 


primal wilderness. They voyaged between the 
eternal hills, threading their way through silent, 
narrow passages as they picked their course 
among the islands. 

“ It ’s just like discovering a new country, 
is n’t it? ” said Roy to Johnnie. 

And he was right. The stillness was un- 
broken. There was little to remind them of 
civilization. They had suddenly slipped from 
the busy haunts of men into the solitude of the 
wilderness. They had exchanged the belching 
smokestacks of industry for the lofty columns of 
the forest trees. It was a magic change and it 
filled every boy with delight. So they paddled 
on with real enjoyment until Mr. Hardy sig- 
naled to Alec to make for the right bank of the 
river. Soon they came to the mouth of the most 
beautiful tributary they had yet seen — the wide, 
placid mouth of Penn’s Creek. They had cov- 
ered more than fifteen miles. Now they paddled 
up the creek a distance to a spring and there de- 
barked for their noonday meal. 

The creek was very muddy. Also it was 
noticeably swollen. The storm of the previous 
night had raised its waters. 


£66 IN CAMP AT FORT READY 


“ I ’m mighty glad of it,” said Mr. Hardy, 
after calling his colleague’s attention to the 
swollen stream. “ When we stuck on the shal- 
lows above Sunbury, I knew we were in for 
trouble. Low water there means a bad time at 
McKee’s Half Falls. This rise in Penn’s Creek 
will help us along.” 

It did, not only by raising the level of the 
Big River, but in another way that Mr. Hardy 
had not foreseen. The muddy water from the 
creek edged the blue surface of the Susquehanna 
with a turbid brown ribbon perhaps twenty-five 
yards wide. The line of demarcation between 
the clear water and this muddy flow by the shore 
was as plain as a pencil mark. 

At McKee’s, some eight miles downstream, the 
river falls twelve feet. Parallel ledges of rock, 
running diagonally from mountain to moun- 
tain, here dam back the mile-wide stream. 
Across most of its width the river has eaten 
great openings in these ledges, leaving numerous 
slabs of rock that stand up in rows like tomb- 
stones. But close beside the right bank the 
sweep of the river has torn away all these up- 
standing rocks, leaving only submerged ledges, 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 267 


over which the water pours down to the lower 
level in a series of great combers. It makes a 
fierce rush of water. Here the passage must be 
made. Some hundred yards below these falls a 
great rocky shoal projects far out into the river, 
shunting the boiling current toward midstream 
at a sharp angle. After shooting the falls, there- 
fore, it is necessary for the canoeist to make 
sharply for the middle of the river. The swirl- 
ing currents and choppy waves call for good 
watermanship. 

The little flotilla approached the falls and 
drew up on the bank some yards above them. 
Mr. Hardy took the boys ashore. They went 
downstream and scrambled down the rocks to 
the water’s edge. Here they could see the river 
tumbling downward toward them. The roar of 
the rapids was deafening. It was a little terri- 
fying too. In the midst of the tossing waves 
there was one little lane of smooth water. This 
was their course. It came straight over the falls, 
then bent outward toward midstream. From 
their vantage point below the falls this path was 
clear enough. But from upstream it would be 
quite another thing to pick it out. And safety 


268 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


lay in following this path absolutely. Just here 
is where their good fortune entered. The line of 
demarcation between the muddy water and the 
clear followed this smooth water exactly. Air. 
Hardy noted the fact with pleasure. 

“ Stick to the edge of the muddy water,” he 
shouted, “ and you will be all right. Do you 
understand? ” Every boy in the party shouted 
back *' ‘ Yes! ” Then they climbed silently back 
up the rocks and made their way to the boats. 

By the time they were embarking, a ring of 
villagers had collected about the canoes. 

“ You can’t make it,” shouted one of them. 

“ A canoe went through yesterday and up- 
set,” shouted another. 

“We ’ll try it,” replied Mr. Hardy. 

He knew that the little flood from Penn’s 
Creek would carry them through. He was too 
experienced a waterman to be fooled. 

And Mr. Hardy was right. For when Alec 
shoved off, after receiving a few words of in- 
structions, he went sailing down the rapids as 
though there were fathoms of river beneath him. 
The water arched over the first ledge of rock in 
a glassy sheet, to be thrown back in a huge, curl- 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 269 


mg comber, the first of a series of great waves. 
Alec’s boat shot over this glassy water like a 
dream craft, then suddenly came to life, dipped 
downward, and shot into the comber as though it 
would dive clear under it. Jimmy saw the great 
wave coming straight at him. It frightened him 
a little, but he gritted his teeth and kept on 
paddling. The bow of the canoe dived into the 
smother and water swept over the bow. It wet 
Jimmy’s legs. But the boat shot through the 
comber and on into another wave and another, 
all the time dancing about, jumping up and 
down, lurching to right or left like a frightened 
living creature. At first it was a little terrify- 
ing. But Jimmy kept his balance by bracing his 
knees against the sides of the canoe and steady- 
ing himself with his paddle. After the first 
shock he began to enjoy it. Once more the 
canoe dipped and took in water, but now Jimmy 
did not mind. He knew the boat would ride 
over the waves like a duck. This was only a 
little spray thrown up over it. He began to 
exult in the fast passage, to feel the joy of com- 
bat, to experience the call of the wild that slum- 
bers in the heart of each one of us. He voiced 


£70 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


his feelings in a great whoop. Then he heard 
Alec behind him shouting, “ Pull for the 
middle! ” 

He bent to his paddling. The boat shot out- 
ward along the edge of the muddy water and 
went racing downstream at a terrific pace. 
“ Head her in! ” he heard Alec shouting a little 
later. They forced the boat toward the shore and 
up into the shoal water where they could hold 
her, just as Mr. Hardy had told them to do, so 
they could be of assistance if anyone upset. 

But when they looked upstream everything 
was all right. The canoes were plunging after 
them in a long line. Mr. Hardy’s canoe was 
just coming down the falls, and the boys watched 
it with breathless interest as it plunged through 
the combers. 

They were astonished at the distance they had 
come. The passage had taken them only a min- 
ute or two, but already they were far down the 
stream. Mr. Hardy’s canoe looked small and 
the ring of spectators that had gathered to 
see them shoot the falls looked like children. 
But almost before they had time to note these 
things the other canoes were shooting past 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 271 


them, and they had to shove off and paddle 
hard to regain their place at the head of the 
party. 

Below the falls the river narrowed perceptibly, 
the water continued to rush along at a fast pace, 
and in a very few minutes Alec saw the open- 
ing in the trees along the bank that marked the 
mouth of the Mahantango Creek, a mile and 
three quarters below the falls. This was to be 
their camping place for the night. They had 
come twenty-three miles and were glad enough 
to stop paddling. Even the joy of exploration 
and the excitement of shooting rapids cannot 
overcome the fatigue born of hard paddling on 
a hot August day. 

Early morning again found the camp astir. 
The air was fresh and cool and everything was 
spangled with dew. It was good just to be 
alive. Camp had been established on a tiny 
island in the mouth of the creek. Mr. Hardy 
gave some of the boys tin pails and sent them to 
the mainland. Some walked upstream a few 
hundred yards and returned with their pails drip- 
ping with cold, clear well water. Others climbed 
a worm fence surrounding a pasture field and 


272 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


brought back delicious wild berries. These were 
welcome additions to the usual fare. 

The flotilla got under wa}^ as soon as possible, 
for the journey, lengthening each day, would 
to-day take them twenty-eight miles, and they 
wanted to cover as many miles as possible before 
the sun grew hot. The morning’s journey was 
without incident. It led them through a region 
of mountains, which often rose up from the water 
like giant portals. A chain of islands added 
charm to the river. At Liverpool the river nar- 
rowed to half a mile and went curving round a 
great mountain, pouring fiercely among the 
thousands of rocks with which its bed was fairly 
peppered. 

Alec led the way slowly, keeping well out from 
the shore. But even this precaution did n’t pre- 
vent his canoe from going on a sunken rock. An 
upward-thrusting pinnacle of rock smashed the 
cedar planking in the middle of his craft and 
held the boat fast. Luckily it did not penetrate 
the canvas. Alec crawled forward over the lug- 
gage while Jimmy steadied the boat. That tilted 
the stern up and released the canoe. The others 
avoided the hidden danger. 


DOWN THE SUSQUEHANNA 273 


The current bore them along rapidly, for the 
river fell fast below Liverpool. They passed a 
summer resort and were greeted with shouts 
from the pleasure seekers. They rushed past the 
portals of Berry Mountain, where the river has 
gnawed a passage straight through the giant hill. 
Then they came to slower water, where the river 
is backed up by the great dam at Clark’s Ferry. 
On the upstream end of Haldeman Island they 
halted for rest and the midday meal. They were 
ready for both. They had come seventeen miles 
— almost as far as they had traveled on the 
whole of their first day — and they had eleven 
miles yet to go. 

They lounged under the big trees along the 
island’s edge until well into the afternoon. Then 
Mr. Hardy gave the order and they shoved off. 
Haldeman Island is three miles long. Just be- 
low it is the great dam. Immediately below the 
dam the Juniata — the blue Juniata famed in 
song and story — comes pouring into the Sus- 
quehanna. The canoeists drew up to the right 
bank, close to the dam, and carried their craft 
across the point of land separating the two 
streams. It was a portage of hardly more than 


274 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


seventy-five yards. Then they pushed off into 
the fast waters of the Juniata and went shooting 
back into the Big River, now made bigger than 
ever. They crossed straight over to the left 
bank, shooting through the swirls and rapids 
below the big dam. 

The course now took them close to this bank. 
In places they could almost touch with their 
paddles the rocks that jutted out from the shore. 
The river ran fast and they went gliding along 
at good speed. Indeed it was hardly necessary 
to paddle at all, and the boys were glad to take 
it easy. Long before the sun had sunk they 
drew their boats up on a little bit of sward just 
above the Rockville Bridge, a mammoth high- 
way with forty-eight arches, the greatest stone 
bridge in the world. Here, as they made camp 
and turned in for the night, they watched the 
great trains of the Pennsylvania Railroad thun- 
der over the bridge, to go steaming up the valley 
of the Juniata, where savages and floods have 
left another record of death, and on to Pitts- 
burgh, where Braddock met his miserable end. 


CHAPTER XXI 

HENRYKS EIGHT FOR LIFE 

'VTQW came the last day of the trip. Thirty 
miles were to be covered to-day, and cov- 
ered with little rest ; for the party was scheduled 
to catch an afternoon train at Columbia that 
would bear them back to Camp Brady that night. 
So they were afloat early. They paddled under 
the great stone bridge and on to Harrisburg, 
five miles from their starting point. The river 
was magnificent, hemmed in by picturesque, 
wooded mountains and set with frequent emerald 
islands. 

At Harrisburg Henry and Lem drew up at 
the foot of a roadway that led upward from the 
water’s edge. Lem got ashore. He had an aunt 
living here and he had asked for permission to 
pay her a visit. Henry very willingly agreed 
to let Lem go, saying that he could keep up with 
the other canoes. Lem was to join the party at 
the railroad station as they came through Harris- 


276 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


burg on the way back to camp. He climbed the 
steep roadway up to the level of the city and 
turned to wave a farewell. None of the canoes 
except his own had stopped, though George 
wanted to have a look at the state capitol. All 
were now some distance downstream and Henry 
was bringing up the rear of the procession alone. 
He had delayed to lash Lem’s paddle fast. The 
boys waved their hands in answer to Lem and 
kept on in this order. 

It was still early in the day. The sun was 
coming up hot, but the wind was rising too, 
blowing cool and clear from the west. It tem- 
pered the heat and made it possible to keep on 
with little rest. By this time, also, the voyagers 
were hardened to their task, and Alec led the 
way at a pretty stiff pace. 

The party soon passed the city and shortly 
came to Steelton, with its myriad tall chimneys 
belching out black smoke. Highspire and Mid- 
dletown followed in succession. The river was 
now a broad sheet in the center of a great valley. 
There were rolling hills on each side, but the 
high mountains were gone. The country became 
less picturesque. After the wonderful scenery 


HENRY’S FIGHT FOR LIFE 277 


the boys had been feasting their eyes upon, the 
region seemed flat and uninteresting. The sun 
poured down hotter and hotter. But the wind 
also kept getting stronger and made it possible 
for the paddlers to keep doggedly on. But the 
pleasure was gone. Under the circumstances 
canoeing became work, and hard work at that. 
Yet nobody grumbled. The stay at Camp 
Brady had put the right spirit into each boy’s 
heart. Henry managed to keep up pretty well, 
though gradually the sheet of water between his 
own and Mr. Hardy’s canoe grew wider and 
wider. 

Now they passed several more little towns. A 
distant, dull roaring began to fill the air. The 
flotilla was approaching the Conewago Falls. 
Here the river, normally a mile wide, narrows 
fully a third by reason of an island lying in mid- 
stream. At the same time the bed of the river 
falls away rapidly, making a sharp incline more 
than a mile in length. Down this narrowed 
passage rushes almost the entire volume of the 
river. Long before it reaches the spot the river 
quickens its pace and comes dancing merrily 
down to this frightful vortex. From a gentle 


278 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


purring its voice rises to a roar that fills the 
heavens. 

The falls are studded with rocks. Some lurk 
beneath the surface, and over these the water 
plunges in fearful combers. Others thrust their 
cruel heads above the water and throw aside the 
rushing waves in swirling cross-currents and 
treacherous eddies. The water rushes down- 
ward in awful confusion. It pulls at the rocks 
as though trying to drag them up by the roots. 
It swirls around them with a horrible sucking 
sound. In places the waters come together with 
the boom of a cannon, throwing up giant break- 
ers. Foam and spray, flung high by the terrific 
impact of wave against wave or billow against 
rock, fill the air. The water leaps and bounds 
and turns and twists in a thousand directions. 

When the river is swollen, it lashes itself into 
indescribable fury. When it is low, as it was 
now, it is even more awful. Its uncovered rocks 
thrust upward like the bared teeth of hungry 
wolves. A canoe could not live in this maelstrom 
for an instant. None but the hardiest of lumber- 
men on the stanchest of log rafts dare attempt 
its passage, and then only when the water is high 


HENRY’S FIGHT FOR LIFE 27d 


and the wind low. And long is the tale of vic- 
tims that the river has taken §ven from these 
hardy voyagers. 

On the right bank of the river just here stands 
a power house. By paddling into its power 
canal and carrying round its dam, the journey 
downstream can be continued with ease and 
safety. This Mr. Hardy planned to do. He 
had kept to the left bank as long as he thought 
wise, to take advantage of the stronger current. 
Now it was time to cross the river before the 
current grew too strong. Mr. Hardy turned in 
his seat and shouted back at Henry: “ Make for 
the other bank! ” 

He pointed with his paddle, and though the 
wind carried his words away, Henry understood 
and waved his paddle in reply. He swung his 
bow sharply for the other shore and bent to his 
task. Mr. Hardy saw that Henry was headed 
right, then turned to his own paddling. From 
time to time he looked around. Henry was still 
headed right. 

But though he was headed right, he was mak- 
ing little progress. His bow was high out of 
water, so that the wind caught it and swung it 


280 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 

powerfully. To make any headway at all, Henry 
had to keep bow on to the wind. It took so 
much effort merely to keep headed right that 
Henry made little progress. He had advanced 
not quite halfway across the river when a sudden 
puff of wind swung him completely around. He 
fought fiercely to turn about, and finally suc- 
ceeded. But the struggle left him tired. All the 
time the roar of the rapids grew louder and 
louder. 

Now Henry noticed with alarm that the cur- 
rent was becoming much faster. For every yard 
he advanced toward the shore he was swept sev- 
eral yards downstream. Henry did not really 
feel frightened until he was more than halfway 
across. Then he suddenly noticed that the upper 
end of the island was dangerously near. A slight 
turn in the river mercifully hid the falls from 
him. But he knew they were close at hand. The 
tumult of the waters now filled the heavens. 

Just at this time Mr. Hardy discovered 
Henry’s plight. In one glance he saw that 
Henry would surely go into the falls unless help 
reached him. The camp leader whirled his craft 
about so suddenly he almost upset Mr. Young. 


HENRY’S FIGHT FOR LIFE 281 


“ Look at Henry! ” he shouted. 

Mr. Young took in the situation at a glance. 
The two men paddled frantically toward their 
struggling comrade. The wind was behind them 
now and they fairly shot through the water. But 
Henry was far out in the stream, where the cur- 
rent was strongest. Long before the camp lead- 
ers got near Henry they saw it was too late. 
They could not save him. They might not even 
be able to save themselves. 

Again Mr. Hardy swung the canoe. With 
desperation the two leaders dug their paddles 
into the waves. These were now dancing high. 
They barely managed to reach the end of the 
island. They were safe. But when they turned 
to look, Henry had vanished from sight. With 
leaden hearts they rushed across the island and 
on down the power canal to the foot of the falls, 
to look for their lost comrade. At least they 
must recover Henry’s body. 

Fishermen were whipping the stream below the 
falls, but none of them had seen either a canoe or 
a body. There was nothing that could be done 
but wait till the river gave up its dead. So the 
party, for all had now made the circuit of the 


282 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


falls, sat in silent agony and watched the cruel 
waters that had snatched away their comrade. 

But Henry, though near death, was not dead. 
When he saw that help could not reach him, he 
headed his boat straight into the rapids and made 
a valiant effort to shoot them. The waves were 
running five feet high and coming from all direc- 
tions. Two breakers, rushing together, met 
above him just as a third lifted the stern of his 
canoe. The boat was flung from under him and 
he was buried under tons of water. For half a 
minute he was submerged. When he came to 
the surface, Henry could see nothing of canoe 
or paddle. Then he began a gallant fight for 
his life. 

Choked and blinded by the boiling waters, he 
fought to gain the island. The current swept 
him along at a terrible pace. Every few yards 
a giant breaker overwhelmed him, spinning him 
over and over until he did not know whether he 
was swimming for the surface or the bottom of 
the river. He could not see. He could hardly 
breathe. He swallowed quantities of water. 
He choked and became weak. The waves tossed 
him about like a cork. Good fortune alone kept 


HENRY’S FIGHT FOR LIFE 283 


him from striking a rock. One such blow on 
his head would have ended it all. Frequently 
he touched rocks with his hands. He tried to 
cling to them. The current tore him away. Once 
he barely avoided a whirlpool that would have 
sucked him down like a straw. 

He became so sick and weak he could fight 
no longer. And then, just as he was giving up, 
he struck a barely submerged rock. With a last 
despairing effort he dragged himself up on it 
and lay prone. He was deathly sick and not 
able to lift his head. But after a time his strength 
partly returned. He sat upright and looked 
about. The current had carried him near to the 
island. The waves, though still rough and 
choppy, were smoother than in midstream. Be- 
low him, but nearer to the island, was another 
flat rock. Henry slipped into the water and 
fought his way to this rock. He was now near 
to the island. Again he rested. Then nerving 
himself for a final struggle, he once more plunged 
into the stream and fought desperately to gain 
the shore. He was almost exhausted when his 
feet touched bottom. He rested against rocks, 
fought his way inch by inch through the turbu- 


284 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


lent current, and finally dropped in utter exhaus- 
tion on the bank of the island. 

It was several minutes before he could stand. 
He staggered downstream, along the edge of the 
island. Presently something long and flat 
caught his eye. It was barely submerged and 
not fifty feet from the shore. It was his own 
canoe, stranded bottom up on a rock. 

Henry looked at it a long time. He saw that 
the water was not deep. Finally he waded into 
the river, and swimming and wading, made his 
way from rock to rock and out to his boat. He 
managed to turn it over and get most of the 
water emptied out of it. His coat and blanket 
were gone, as well as the box of duffle. But 
Lem’s paddle was still there. Henry cut it 
loose with his knife. Then he got into the canoe 
and steered it close to the island. He had not 
strength enough left to paddle. But here the 
waves were comparatively smooth, and although 
he shipped some water, Henry came through the 
rest of the falls in safety. 

When his companions saw him riding out of 
the maelstrom, they could hardly believe their 
eyes. Mr. Hardy, more thankful than he had 


HENRY’S FIGHT FOR LIFE 285 


ever been before in his life, paddled out and 
towed Henry’s canoe ashore. He wrapped 
Henry in blankets and made him lie down in the 
shade of a tree. He gave him a little aromatic 
spirits of ammonia. Meantime Lew had a fire 
going in a jiffy. In no time the coffeepot was 
boiling. Henry was given food and a stimu- 
lating drink of the coffee. The others ate their 
midday meal. They were very sober. Death 
had been very close to them. 

As soon as Henry was rested the party went 
on. Henry rode in Mr. Hardy’s canoe, his own 
being towed behind. They had still a dozen 
miles to go. They passed a number of small 
towns and in ample time reached Columbia, 
where they were to take the train for Muncy. 

Presently their train came steaming in. Their 
canoes were piled into the baggage car, nearly 
filling it. At Harrisburg Lem joined them and 
heard from awed lips the story of Henry’s escape. 

“ And it all happened because he was trying 
to do me a kindness,” said Lem. “ I seem to 
cause nothing but trouble, and yet everybody is 
kind to me.” 

Mr. Hardy smiled happily as he overheard 


286 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


this remark. He knew it indicated a great 
change in heart. 

For nearly three hours the party steamed up 
the stream down which they had so pleasantly 
journeyed. They reached Muncy, this time at 
another station across the river from Muncjr. It 
was four miles to Camp Brady. But before the 
boys realized this fact they saw Mr. Robinson 
and Teddy in a great big farm wagon, waiting 
for them. They piled into the big wagon, leav- 
ing the canoes for another day, and the trip back 
was enlivened by a spirited recital of their ad- 
ventures for Teddy’s benefit. 

Another surprise was in store for them. In- 
stead of driving up to camp, Mr. Robinson drew 
up at his own door and the boys were ushered 
into the farmhouse for a meal such as only Mrs. 
Robinson could prepare and that tasted es- 
pecially good after four days of their own cook- 
ing. After supper the trip was described again 
for Mrs. Robinson’s benefit, and thus happily 
ended the hundred-mile canoe trip down the 
Susquehanna. 


CHAPTER XXII 


FAREWELL TO CAMP BRADY 

rpHE last night in camp was celebrated by a 
big camp fire and a special “ feed.” The 
axe brigade had prepared triple the usual quan- 
tity of wood for the fire. Roasting ears and 
potatoes had been brought up from the farm. 
And A1 had spent most of the day preparing 
goodies for this farewell feast. The borrowed 
canoes had been returned to their owners, the 
other craft had been crated and shipped home, 
and everything that could be packed in advance 
had been gotten ready. There remained only the 
dismantling of the tents, and the packing of cots 
and dishes, and Camp Brady would be no more. 

/It had been a wonderful month and the boys 
were going to make this last night a memorable 
one. Mr. and Mrs. Robinson and Teddy had 
been invited to join in the fun. 

Never was there another such camp fire. For 
more than an hour it flamed high, making the 


288 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


clearing as light as day. The boys sang and 
cheered. They played games in the bright light. 
Mr. Hardy told them stories. And when the 
fire had burned low, the roasting ears and the 
potatoes were put in the bed of hot coals. A1 dis- 
appeared for a few minutes and came back with 
some flat, chunky things that looked like elon- 
gated mud pies, which he hastily buried in the 
glowing coals. When Roy asked him what he 
had, he merely smiled and said wait and see. 
While they were waiting, Mr. Young kept the 
party laughing by his stories of college life and 
pranks. 

Presently A1 raked away some of the coals 
and thrust the blade of his knife into an uncov- 
ered potato. 

“ Done to a turn,” he announced, and began 
to dig out the potatoes and roasting ears. Lastly 
he drew forth his mud pies, now baked hard. 
A1 laid them on a board, while everybody looked 
on in wonder. Suddenly Roy gave a whoop. 

“ I know what they are,” he shouted. 
“ They ’re fish. That ’s the way the Indians 
used to cook them.” 

Roy was right, as A1 showed in a moment 


FAREWELL TO CAMP BRADY 289 


when he knocked off the baked mud and ex- 
hibited a number of beautiful steaming bass, 
wrapped in leaves of the sassafras and the hick- 
ory. The fish were fit for a king. A1 split them 
in halves and gave each one present a piece of 
the delicious meat. He had caught the fish 
quietly during the day and kept them alive in 
the spring box until he wanted to cook them. 
No one present had ever tasted a fish half so 
good. With the potatoes and the corn and the 
other good things A1 had prepared, Camp 
Brady had a feast long to be remembered. 

All of a sudden everybody became quiet. No- 
body spoke a word, yet everybody knew what 
everybody else was thinking about. To-morrow 
was the last day of camp, the day of parting. 
The boys could not bear to think of leaving the 
spot where they had passed such a happy month. 
Mr. and Mrs. Robinson had become very fond 
of the campers, for they were manly little fellows 
and they were such fine company for Teddy. 
Mr. Hardy they loved almost like a son. And 
as for Teddy, he could hardly keep the tears 
back at the thought of parting. He sat by Lew 
with his head down and his face very sober. 


290 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


“ We never could have come if it had n’t been 
for Mr. Hardy,” Lew said to him. 

“ Of course you could n’t,” replied Teddy. 

“ He ’s a fine leader,” said Lew. 

“ He ’s a hero,” returned Teddy. 

“ Of course,” answered Lew. 

“ But I mean a real hero,” said Teddy, “ like 
Al. He won’t let me tell anybody, but I ’m go- 
ing to tell you anyway. You tell the others.” 

Teddy whispered in Lew’s ear, while Lew’s 
eyes opened wider and wider. And before sleep 
descended upon Camp Brady that night the news 
flew swiftly from tent to tent that Mr. Hardy 
had jumped overboard in a flood, when the river 
was jammed with floe ice, which was as danger- 
ous as a log jam and lots colder, and saved 
Teddy’s life after a terrible struggle. And 
Camp Brady fell asleep proudly conscious that 
it contained two real, flesh and blood heroes. 
Certainly there never was a camp like this. 

While Teddy was whispering his forbidden 
story to Lew, Mr. Robinson was saying 
anxiously to Mr. Hardy, “ You ’re coming back 
next year, aren’t you, James?” 

“ Well, now, I shall be very busy next sum- 


FAREWELL TO CAMP BRADY 291 


mer,” began Mr. Hardy, but Mrs. Robinson cut 
him short. 

“We simply won’t take no for an answer,” 
she said. “ Teddy has grown so fond of the 
boys, and it has been so good to see you once 
more. You must come back.” 

Mr. Hardy was thoughtful for a moment. 

“ Well, now, I might,” he began. Then he 
turned to the ring of faces about the fire. 

“What about it, boys?” he asked. “Shall 
we come back next summer? Mr. Robinson 
wants us to.” 

“ Yes, yes,” shouted the boys. 

Mr. Hardy was silent for a little. 

“ There are certain difficulties in the way,” 
he said at last. “ Nearly everything we have 
here is borrowed. I should not care to ask for 
the things a second time. If we buy an outfit 
like this, it will cost a lot of money. Are you 
willing to work during the winter to earn that 
money? If you are, we can go camping as many 
summers as we like.” 

“Yes indeed,” cried the campers. “We’ll 
earn it.” 

And every boy there pledged himself to earn 


292 IN CAMP AT FORT BRADY 


forty dollars before the next summer. And so it 
was settled that the Camp Brady boys were to 
become a permanent organization and that the 
journey home on the morrow was not really a 
farewell to Camp Brady after all, but merely a 
temporary leave-taking. 

44 A year ain’t so long,” said Roy. 

4 4 It ain’t any too long when you ’ve got to 
earn forty dollars,” replied Johnnie, and every- 
body laughed. 

44 If we come back next year, I think Teddy 
ought to be a camper,” said Lew. 

44 Can I, father? ” asked Teddy. 

44 Yes, Teddy,” replied Mr. Robinson. 

The boys gave a shout, for they all loved 
Teddy. 

And so it was settled that the campers were to 
come back the next summer and that Teddy was 
to be one of them. 

The Robinsons smiled with happiness at the 
thought. They said good night and started for 
home. 

44 Wait a minute,” said Mr. Hardy. Then 
turning to the boys, he called: 44 Palousers 
everybody.” 


FAREWELL TO CAMP BRADY 293 


In a minute twelve miniature searchlights 
were flashing, and the Robinson family was es- 
corted safely home, with six bright little lights 
shining on either side of them as they walked 
through the now shorn wheat field. The boys 
gave them a good-night cheer at the farmhouse 
door, and soon afterward twelve happy boys 
were fast asleep. They were to come back next 
year! They were to see dear old Camp Brady 
once more! No wonder they were happy. 

Then came an early breakfast after dreamless 
slumber, a few hours’ work in packing, a final 
cheer for the Robinsons, and a last hike to the 
station. Two hours later the party were back 
in Central City, brown and happy and over- 
flowing with stories of the wonderful days at 
Camp Brady. They gave the camp cheer as 
they separated at the Y.M.C.A. building. 

“ Three more cheers for Roy,” called Johnnie. 
“ The camp was his idea.” 

The cheers were given with a will. 

“ An idea is a useful thing sometimes,” laughed 
Roy, and the party disbanded. 









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